For Senior Officers Only: (Prisoner # 170650)

By Eva Fischer-Dixon

Melina Chakiris was an eighteen-year-old blonde and brown eyed beauty on the Island of Crete, Greece, when a group of German Army soldiers arrived in her village of Kondomari.
Colonel Klaus and Major Diehl immediately took notice of the beautiful Greek girl. While Klaus had a sinister plan for the girl, Diehl fell in love with her at first sight. Discovering that four of their soldiers were murdered, Klaus orders revenge on the male population of the village. Due to new orders from Hitler, the girls from the village are taken to work in brothels all over Europe. Major Bertrand Diehl saves Melina from her bleak future, although he was scheduled to fight on the Eastern Front.
The physical attraction between Bertrand and Melina was so strong that she could not help it; she desperately fell in love with him. Melina is willing to do anything to find out what happened to her abducted younger sister, even if it costs her own life. When the Gestapo arrests her, Melinas life turns into a living nightmare. Her father-in-law, SS General Diehl, does everything in his power to save her, and by doing so, he unleashes a chain of events that changes everyones life forever.
Melinas love for Bertrand is unshakable, but during her subsequent travels, she becomes an eyewitness to horrifying deeds that broke her faith in humanity for a long time to come. Will she ever see Bertrand or her kidnapped child again? She often wonders if she is strong enough to revenge those who were hurt, to find love and peace in her private life, and what might have God laid down for her on lifes long path.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Nov 17, 2015
• ISBN: 9781514422373

Eva Fischer-Dixon

I came into this troubled world during the early morning hours of June 17, 1950, in the city of Budapest, Hungary. I was the first and last child of my 41-year-old mother and my father who was 45 years old at the time of my birth. As I did not know any better, I could not possibly understand that we were living in poverty, as I was growing up with loving parents and there was always a bite to eat. My childhood was poor and saddened with tragedies. As a six-year-old child I witnessed the bloody 1956 revolution and received the first taste of true prejudice by those of whom I thought liked us, yet turned against my family. That tragedy did not match the untimely death of my beloved father when I was not yet seven years old, on February 14, 1957. My mother remarried in 1959 and our financial situation was upgraded from poverty to poor. After finishing elementary school I made a decision to earn money as soon as possible to ease our financial situation and I enrolled in a two-year business college (high school diploma was not required). I received my Associate Degree in 1966 and I began to work as a 16-year-old certified secretary/bookkeeper. During the same period I began my high-school education, which I completed while working full-time and attending night school. I discovered my love for writing when I was 11 years old after a movie that my childhood friend and I saw in the movie theater. We were not pleased with the ending and Steven suggested that I should write a different ending that we both liked. Voila, a writer was born. With my family’s encouragement, I entered a writing contest given by a youth oriented magazine and to my genuine surprise, I won second price. My desire to live in a free country and to improve my life was so great, that in 1972, leaving everything, including my aging parents behind, I managed to escape from Hungary during a tour to Austria, (then) Yugoslavia and Italy. I spent almost nine long months in a rat infested refugee camp, located Capua, Italy, while I waited for official permission to immigrate to the country of my dreams, to the USA. In 1975 I met and married a wonderful man, my husband Guy. Thanks to his everlasting patience, he assisted me in my task of learning the English language. He is truly my partner for life and I remain forever grateful to him for standing by me in some tough times. It is difficult for me to describe my love for writing. I cannot think of a bigger emotional joy for an author than to see a published novel in somebody’s hand and to see a story come alive on the screen. I yearn to experience that joy.

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Copyright © 2015 by Eva Fischer-Dixon.

ISBN:      Softcover      978-1-5144-2238-0

                eBook             978-1-5144-2237-3

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Rev. date: 11/13/2015

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Contents

Dedication

Author's Comment

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Chapter Forty-One

Chapter Forty-Two

Chapter Forty-Three

Chapter Forty-Four

Epilog

Also available from Eva Fischer-Dixon:

The Third Cloud

One Last Time (Previously titled For One Last Time)

A Song for Hannah (Previously titled Hannah's Song)

A Journey to Destiny (Previously titled A Journey to Passion)

The Discovery

The Forbidden

Fata Morgana

Eighteen

The Chava Diamond Chronicles: The Shades of Love and Hate

The Bestseller

A Town by the River

Five 'til Midnight

Thy Neighbor's Wife

The Roma Chavi (The Gypsy Girl)

My First Son

By the Book

The Angie Chronicles: Six Summers & One Winter

The Angie Chronicles: Angie's Story

The Angie Chronicles: The Resurrection

Dedication

I WISH TO DEDICATE this book to those tens of thousands of young girls and women who were taken from their schoolrooms, from their homes, from stores, or picked up on the streets by Nazis. Those who were taken and used as sex slaves in the over 500 brothels created by the Third Reich all over Europe. Those kidnapped women were taken not because of their religious beliefs or political affiliation; they were taken for one reason and one reason only, to be enslaved in brothels at the mercy of the Nazi regime.

This dedication also extends to those tens of thousands of so called Comfort Women who were kidnapped and forced to work in make shift brothels by the Japanese Imperial Army. I am extremely proud of those survivors who lived to bravely speak out and who demanded an apology from the Japanese Government, which they received, although shamefully much too late for many who have passed on since then.

Author's Comment

I WAS BORN FIVE years and a month after World War Two ended in Europe. My father was a journalist before the war and married to his first wife, they had two children, a girl and a boy. I suppose somehow I could consider them as siblings I never had. Along with the majority of my family members they were deported to Auschwitz. By sheer miracle, my father survived the horrors of the death camp, and with the exception of a younger brother, Sándor, his entire family did not.

My mother was much luckier. She managed to escape deportation from Budapest by hiding in plain sight. When she was taken to a horse track field with hundreds of others, she escaped during the darkness of the night. Because of my mother's bravery, she survived not being shot in the Blue Danube on the following day. I personally never called the river Blue Danube; rather, I grew up calling the river, Red Danube.

Growing up in a household of Holocaust survivors, one may think that I heard discussions or comments about the atrocities and the cruelties that almost all Jews had endured, but surprisingly, nobody talked about it. There was no cursing of the Nazis, and they seldom mentioned murdered relatives. My father died when I was six and a half years old and my mother remarried when I was nine. My stepfather, a decent man, was also a Holocaust survivor; he lived through the horrors of Mauthausen.

Once, just once I asked him to tell me about it. He did for about ten minutes until his voice cracked from emotions, therefore abruptly ending the discussion. After all that was said, one maybe surprised to learn that while I was raised to be a God fearing person, I had absolutely no interest in any particular religion until much later, but that is another story.

To say the least, World War Two always fascinated me and I began to learn more and more about it when I turned ten years old. My mother-expressed concerns about what she called my morbid curiosity about the subject, but she had no way of controlling what I read in the library. She certainly expressed her displeasure when I began to take home books on the subject of Nazi cruelties that occurred in the camps. I grew up knowing and learning even more. Did I understand what and why it happened? I will never understand completely, and I seriously doubt that anyone else really could either. Sure, we had thoughts, suggestions and guesses how all those horrible things could happen, and some of them were actually very good observations.

Yair Lapid, then Finance Minister of Israel said the following during a speech he gave in Germany on August 20, 2014 pertaining the Jewish victims of the Holocaust. The following is only a partial quotation of that speech.

"According to their murderers, they weren't people. They weren't mothers or fathers, they weren't somebodies children. According to their murderers they never celebrated the birth of a child, never fell in love, never took their old dog for a walk two in the morning or laughed until they cried at the latest comedy by Max Erlich.

That's what you need to kill another man. To be convinced that he isn't a man at all. When the murderers looked upon the people who departed from this platform on their final journey, they didn't see Jewish parents, only Jews. They weren't Jewish poets or Jewish musicians, only Jews. They weren't Herr Braun or Frau Schwartz, only Jews."

Mr. Lapid's words were as true as the atrocities that were committed. So there I was, knowing more than I should about the gas chambers, the executions by bullets and hanging, by injecting of Phenol or Chloroform directly into the heart, and even starving people to death. The more I read the more one question came up in my mind. What about women who were pretty, even beautiful? Surely there were many. What happened to them? I am not naïve, I know that the majority of the time they were dehumanized by shaving off their hair and giving them rags to wear. But what if the women were extraordinarily beautiful? Did they kill them too?

So I began a new line of research on military brothels and brothels in concentration camps. To my surprise, I discovered that considering the size of the Internet, I found mostly already used and/or repeated materials and very weak information on the subject. My next step was to look up on-line booksellers, and again, there were only a very few on the subject of the women in those brothels (over 500 them existed at one point). I found a lot more information regarding the so-called Comfort Women, although I was already well aware of their own tragedies.

It did not take long to get my imagination going on the subject and the idea of this book developed. I felt the need to write about those who silently suffered and/or got killed by the very hands that forced them to perform sexual services, as if they were inflammable and lifeless dolls without any feelings or emotions.

Almost half way through the book, I made a decision to change the way I wrote it and I began to write in first person, as if I was Melina Sofia Chakiris, the main character of this novel.

While Melina is a fictional character, what she and her sister eventually had to endure could have happened to any young women who were taken against their own free wills. The story is fictional with real life elements that actually had taken place all over Europe during World War Two. I personally did not know anyone, nor that I talked to anyone who actually survived the brutality of those brothels. Any life events that are written in this book happened to a person still alive or dead are strictly coincidental. With the exception of historical characters, such as Himmler, Hitler, Höss and his family, the majority of the events and persons are born from my imagination, based on historical events.

Prologue

M Y NAME IS Melina Sofia Chakiris. I was born in the village of Kondomari, on the island of Crete. I only had one sibling, a loving younger sister by the name of Nia Eleni. My parents owned and operated a tavern that sold beer, local wine, lemonade and various soft drinks. My mother, Maria Chakiris was a cook, although most of the villagers preferred to have drinks than food ordered, although at times they were hungry for sandwiches, which is what she mostly made. My father, Manos Chakiris was the most loving father a child could ask for. He was strict but also kind hearted.

Kondomari was a village with the population around three hundred at the time when I was growing up; we never really cared to conduct a census. It was a tightknit community, and as usual, everybody knew about the others' business, yet they went about their own affairs most of the time. We had a one-room schoolhouse for elementary studies and I completed my studies by age thirteen. My thirst for knowledge, to learn about the world outside of our island was so strong, that my father purchased a bicycle so I could peddle over to Chania, some eighteen kilometers away to get a higher education.

I loved to read and it often caused disagreements between my mother and I. She wanted me to concentrate on my studies, but I could not help it, I devoured books in addition to my schoolbooks. My mother could not understand how my library was growing every week, as they never gave me any money, perhaps some change for incidentals. My father just blinked at my direction and I nodded as a secret signal between the two of us. It basically meant that he would ask the owner of the small General Store to order more books for me.

My father always told me that being beautiful was not enough; a woman should be educated too. He encouraged me to learn a foreign language and I selected German, which I had studied on my own from books since age nine, and later I studied German in high school. Lucky for me, one of our teachers was married to a German woman who enjoyed exercising her native language with me. I was seventeen years old when I graduated from high school and by that time, I was fluent in German. I spoke the language with a Bavarian dialect as my language teacher was from Baden Baden, which was located in that state.

Our house, a two story high building was fairly large. My sister, Nia had her own room and I did as well, the third bedroom belonged to our parents. We were lucky to have indoor plumbing which cost my father a great deal of money to have it installed, and although we did not have a bathtub, we did have an indoor toilet, a sink and a shower in the corner. The Mayor's house and ours were the only ones in the village to have that luxury. Also upstairs was our private kitchen where my mother prepared the most delicious Greek foods in the world.

The downstairs of the house was the tavern, which had indoor and outdoor seating. Behind the bar was a small kitchen and on the right from the entrance was the toilet for the patrons' use. What I liked most about our building, especially my room's, that it overlooked the village's square. The square had a huge walnut tree in the middle of it and it gave shade to those who wanted to take a brief break from their work.

Across the square stood another two-story house, which had a very important occupant. As I mentioned, my father was strict, but only when it came to having boyfriends. Since everybody told him how beautiful I was, he was sensitive about the subject if the complimented person happened to be me. In that house, across the square lived Costas Fountas with his widowed mother and a sister, Nia's age. His father died some years earlier when his fishing boat that he used for commercial fishing out of Chania sunk during a big storm. Costas was two years older and a head taller than me. I always liked tall men, well, you know, just liked, but of course never dated one. As a matter of fact, I have never dated anyone in my entire life. I suppose I should not have read so many books on romance, especially in the German language. I did have dozens of books in both Greek and in German.

Costas and I used to sneak out from our homes, I went through the garden that was behind the building and we met up in the olive groves that bordered of our village, as if it was the fence around it. We just sat there and talked about our dreams, what we would like to do in the future. Costas and I never kissed; we didn't even touch each other's hands, as both of us knew our standing in society. What I meant was, there were certain rules in courting in our village, and marriages more often than not were arranged between the parents of the groom and the bride. My father was hopeful that perhaps I would go to Athens or Thessaloniki to learn to be a doctor or a veterinarian, and he feverishly saved money for my education.

Nia, my little sister was two years younger and totally the opposite of me. I had long blonde hair that reached my buttocks, and which my mother refused to cut. She would rather spend an hour each day to braid it. I had light brown eyes, the lightest you can imagine and which everybody made a comment about that by saying that it was unusual. Nia had mother's dark hair and eyes, while our father had dirty blonde hair; I somehow ended up with an almost platinum blonde hair. According to family rumors, they had blondes from my father's side a very long time ago, but nobody could exactly remember who they were. My family's history went back several hundreds of years as they have never left the island of Crete and they always married local girls or boys.

I loved my sister Nia with all my heart. She was very shy, unlike me; I was always outgoing and talkative with anyone. She preferred to remain indoors and read from the books that she borrowed from me. Nia often asked me to read to her in German, despite the fact that she never learned the language. Interestingly enough, she picked up words here and there, and slowly but surely she began to understand what I was reading. She attended the school in the village and she already told our parents that she did not want to attend any other school. She made it very clear to all of us that she would rather help around the house, attended the garden where we planted all sort of vegetables and even fruit trees, or take care of the chickens and the goats that we had. She did not dream about travelling and getting to know people in the other countries like I did.

I would say that the villagers' life was busy working the fields and tending the olive groves, and I would even call the life where I lived tranquil. While I dreamed for some excitement, like travel to places and such, never in the million years that I thought how my life would make a full, three hundred and sixty degree turn within a short period of time. It all began on the day of May 20, 1941.

Chapter One

I T WOULD HAVE been a perfectly beautiful day if the talk among the village population did not come true, but it did. All anyone could see was dust from the four German military trucks carrying paratroopers, and a car with two senior rank officers stirred up from the dirt road that led through Maleme airstrip towards Kondomari. The date was June 2, 1941, and the sun could not be any brighter as the Battle of Crete was nearing to its end, although not even just weeks earlier, it was an entirely different situation.

The village, Kondomari itself was situated on the north coast of the island of Crete, only eighteen kilometers from the next bigger town called Chania with a coastal port. Platanias, the next larger village was also not far, about three kilometers from the Maleme airstrip that was being used by the Germans who completely took over the island within weeks.

The assault on Crete began on May 20, 1941, when over 600 German paratroopers were dropped from Luftwaffe planes over the island. Their temporary target extended to the village of Platanias, but also included the village of Kondomari. No one knows for certain what the Germans expected, but they were welcomed by soldiers from two New Zealand Infantry Battalions along with some barely armed local civilians who were not supplied with modern weaponry. The German losses were very heavy, out of the dropped 600 paratroopers 400 perished in the heavy fire by the New Zealanders. Even the German Commanding officer was shot as well.

The German high command was furious and they wanted to prove that nobody, and they meant nobody could get away what they considered a massacre of their troops. What would the world think of the mighty Third Reich if they could not even take over an island such as Crete? The Germans declared war on those who they suspected either aided the New Zealanders, or if they participated in the fighting themselves.

On that sunny yet dusty day, the Germans were en-route to a village called Platanias; but they stopped for a couple of hours rest and something to eat in my village of Kondomari. I knew from overheard conversations at the tavern, and at various gatherings, that the village's population did not want anything to do with the Germans, but they were also not stupid to refuse any service for them. Basically they had no options, they either provided the soldiers who knocked or banged on their doors with food and drinks, or they would just break in and take more goods than would have been given to them. My father, Manos Chakiris did not only dislike the situation, he simply loathed it. He repeatedly told my mother that he refused to open the tavern, even if a gun was held to his head.

I am the man of this house and I own this business. If I say that we don't open, than we don't open, he said it again and turned around to face his wife whom he married over twenty-two years ago. My mother, as usual, bowed her head; she seldom if ever argued or disagreed with my father. Just as tradition told her and the way she was raised, and tried to raise Nia and me as well. At that particular time, the situation was so desperate that she had no choice; she had to plead her case.

Manos, I respect you and I obeyed everything you told me to do, but if you don't open for business, they will break down the door and loot the place. If you open for business, at least they may pay for the drinks and food. Mother suggested to my occasionally stubborn father. He looked toward her once again, and I could tell that he understood what she was trying to say, and that she had a point. Besides, she added. They probably are going to leave our village shortly, I am sure of it. Father finally shrugged his shoulders and mother knew that she won the argument. Just minutes later, the banging started on our tavern's door. Father cursed out loud but took his hat he always wore and went downstairs.

My father unlocked the door of our small tavern and looked at the two blonde and blue eyed German officers standing there. One of them had a nicely carved stick in his hand. His cold eyes stared at my father and for a brief moment, I was sure that the officer was going to strike him, but instead, he showed around with it.

Do you speak German? He asked. My father understood that much. He shook his head that he did not. Anybody speak German here? The officer asked in a louder tone of voice.

I do, I said walking down the staircase. Father gave me a hard, disapproving look. He did not want any of us to come downstairs. The officer who asked the question turned around to see who was talking, and when he saw me, his eyes softened and his lips parted, but at that moment, he said nothing.

The girl who was descending the stairs was simply and breathtakingly beautiful. Her long blonde hair was braided, and even so, it has reached her buttocks. Klaus had never seen eyes like hers, they were a very light shade of brown and they did not show any fear.

And who are you? He asked and took a couple of steps toward me.

She is my oldest daughter, Melina, father said, but the officer did not even glance in his direction. I knew that my father thought that his worst nightmare was coming true, I was sure that he believed that.

Melina, the German repeated my name as if it was a soft cheese that was tasted for the first time. Beautiful name for a beautiful girl. He complimented me. I gave him a smile as a way of thanking him for his compliment.

When she smiled she exposed her perfectly while teeth, another thing he instantly liked about her. Colonel Martin Klaus felt that something happened, something that he had never experienced before. He was completely and utterly taken by the young woman whom he seen for the first time in his life, and he swore to himself, not for the last time.

What can I get for you, sir, I asked them speaking in German. He smiled. Where did you learn German? Colonel Klaus inquired.

I looked at my father who was eyeing the other officer and about a dozen or so soldiers standing outside the door.

My father wanted me to learn a foreign language, I choose German, I replied in a low voice.

The Colonel could not take his eyes off from her. He heard his name called, so he forced himself to turn around.

Yes, Major, he asked his second in command, Major Bertrand Diehl.

Just checking sir if we are getting anything here or should we look further? He asked. Colonel Klaus looked at my father.

Major Diehl, as well as myself want to know if you could accommodate us with food and drinks? He asked and waited until I translated. My father nodded and replied. It will take a few minutes to set up. My wife will prepare some sandwiches, he told the officers. Once he heard the translation, the Colonel nodded with satisfaction and took one more look at me and with a smile on his face, he went outside.

What are you trying to do? Father hissed at me. Do you want to get raped?

No, father, I said quietly. I am trying to save our lives.

My father looked at me and I could see his anger slowly melting away. I knew that he loved us, and I also knew that if he had too, he would have sacrificed his life for us, for his entire family. My father was not a fighting man by nature and it was clear to me that he knew, he finally understood what I was trying to do. He yelled upstairs for my mother and my sister to join us downstairs to help.

As I mentioned earlier, Nia, my sister who was two yours younger than me, looked the opposite of me with her dark hair and dark brown eyes, nevertheless, just like I did, she also looked younger than our peers. I motioned to Nia to help to take the small white tables outside, and while we were doing that, I heard the Major telling a couple of his soldiers to help us with the stacked up chairs. I murmured a quiet thank you in his direction and he smiled at me in return.

If I would dare to take the liberty to say that I liked him, it would be a wrong expression, but I must say that Major Diehl, who seemed young, but was just as blonde and blue eyed as his Commanding Officer, Colonel Klaus, his face was softer and appeared to be kinder in nature.

My mother got busy in the small kitchen in the back of the bar and Nia went to help her while my father began to put glasses on the bar's counter. I went outside and asked the soldiers what they wanted to drink. At first I told them about their choices; Alfa Beer, red or white local wines, Ouzo, fresh lemonade or soda water. I never took notes when people ordered things, I had a system that I developed and I never served the wrong drink or food to anyone yet.

The soldiers who wore knee long shorts looked kind of funny too me, although I could understand that the weather was hot and that it was the reason behind not wearing full uniforms, although the officers did. Actually the soldiers were nice to me, they all smiled, but without a doubt they made comments after I left the area where they sat or stood. Some of them took refuge from the bright sun under the walnut tree, which stood in the middle of the square as long as I could remember. Some other soldiers took seats by the tables we placed outside; there is where the two officers were also sitting under the only large sun umbrella that we owned.

Colonel Martin Klaus watched Melina's every move and it did not go without a notice by Major Bertrand Diehl. He was also taken by the young woman's exceptional beauty, and while he did not want his superior to realize it, he was also watching her, although not as openly as the Colonel did. She is a beautiful Greek girl, he commented. The Colonel answered without looking at his direction.

She is exquisite, he said, and just then he looked at the Major. She is not to be touched, you understand me? He told him.

Yes, sir, the Major said, and then he added. I will let the troops know. He made a mental note to do that because one thing he didn't want was to be on the bad side of the Colonel. Major Diehl was not afraid of Klaus, but he saw the dark side of his superior officer when they first arrived to Warsaw, Poland. Colonel Klaus, who was only thirty-six years old, ten years older than he was, wanted to stay in a particular high class hotel's suite that he heard about from someone. The concierge informed him that the suite was taken, but he was more than glad to give him the second largest accommodation.

Those people in that suite, are they Jews? Klaus asked. The concierge shook his head.

No, Herr Colonel, they are the Deputy Prime Minister, his wife and three children staying there for a while now, he mumbled the information.

I may need your help in a little while, Colonel Klaus told the frightened looking Polish man. Can I count on you? He asked. The concierge nodded. Klaus motioned to Major Diehl and four of his men to follow him.

Arriving at the top floor of the Ambiance Warsaw Hotel, he banged on the suite's door. A maid opened the door and she had to step back quickly because the German officer pushed the door back, almost hitting her.

Where is your master? Colonel Klaus asked. The maid shook her head. It took everyone, even Major Diehl by surprise when the Colonel calmly shot the maid in the head. The sound of gunfire brought Deputy Prime Minister Pulaski out of the adjoined bedroom, close behind him was his wife; his children were not visible yet.

What is going on here? He first asked in Polish, his native language and then in German. His eyes wandered down to the floor where only steps away from where he stood was their long time maid, Elzbieta's body. The Colonel calmly looked at his watch.

You have exactly five minutes to vacate the premises, otherwise you end up like this unfortunate creature, he told them. Pulaski was angrier than a teased bull in the arena. His wife grabbed his arm and whispered to him, but he shook her hands off from his arm and approached the arrogant German officer.

Do you have any idea who you are talking to? He asked in a raised voice.

A dead man? Replied the Colonel sarcastically.

I want to talk to the man in charge, Pulaski demanded.

Go ahead and talk, but I must warn you that now you only have two minutes left, Colonel Klaus said and pointed at his watch.

Leave us alone, otherwise I have to contact your Government officials, Pulaski threatened but he did not have a chance to regret his words because Colonel Klaus shot him too, also in the head. His wife rushed to him and her life ended the same way. They heard whispering in the bedroom from where the Pulaskis came out earlier and slowly three children emerged. The oldest, a boy was around twelve years old but his eyes showed nothing but hatred towards them. The middle child was an eight-year-old girl with scared big blue eyes; she was holding onto her six year old little brother.

Major Diehl looked at Colonel Klaus and thought, he surely would not take the children's lives like he did their parents, they were not even Jews, but it was a lesson for life what he witnessed. Colonel Klaus with a smile on his face approached the children as they by instinct backed up to the wall, where they had nowhere to go. Klaus calmly aimed and fired one shot into each child's head. The Major and the four soldiers present did not make a sound, they watched the scene and registered the fact that whatever Colonel Martin Klaus wanted, Colonel Martin Klaus got.

The Colonel picked up the phone and reminded the concierge of the assistance he promised him earlier. The bodies were removed with the help of the soldiers and a couple of hotel personnel. The pools of blood were cleaned up within the hour, along with the removal anything that would remind the Colonel of the previous occupants.

Chapter Two

C OSTAS, I AM begging you, stay away from the window, Lila Fountas pleaded with her son. If they discover that you are hiding here, they are going to kill both of us. What is going to happen to your sister then?

Costas could not help it, he was in hiding and therefore, he had to watch what was unfolding from his hiding place. He only returned a few days earlier from the woods, not far from the village where he was born twenty years earlier, a place that he loved with all of his heart as much as he loved Melina, who lived across the village's square. Her parents' tavern was just about the most popular establishment in the small village, other than the General Store that sold everything from food to clothing.

There was no need to sell fruits and vegetables because every villager grew their own, but not every woman or perhaps even man could sew clothing or make shoes and miscellaneous clothing items. Of course there were food items in the General Store that was shipped in from the mainland, mostly necessities, such as sugar and spices, among other grocery items.

Costas watched the love of his life through binoculars that a New Zealander soldier gave him a day earlier before he was killed in the battle against the attacking Germans. Costas also fight along with the soldiers who arrived to Crete to fight their mutual enemies from their faraway homeland of New Zealand. He glanced down at the sniper rifle that was leaning against the wall; he took that too from the dead soldier. The gun became his only friend since the German occupation began on May 20, 1941. If the Germans would know that he was in the village, his life would have come to an abrupt end with that discovery.

Costas with his binoculars checked all two floors of the tavern. From his real hiding place in the attic, he could clearly see the inside of Melina's room. Before the Germans first made an attempt to land on Crete, they would give each other signals by a flashlight, just to tell each other that they were in their rooms and that they were thinking about each other. If the Germans would not had attacked Crete, Costas would have asked Melina's father, Manos for her hand in marriage. It all seemed so long ago and he could not do anything else than to watch what was taking place in the village's square and at the tavern.

Melina was busy serving the Germans who sat around the small white tables in front of the tavern, or under what the Kondomaris called the Village Tree. There were at least eighty German soldiers if not more in the vicinity, they used the square as a staging area, while most of them spread out to scavenge food and drinks from the local villagers. They came to their door too and his mother gave them a loaf of bread, some ham, goat cheese and two bottles of local wine. The soldiers even thanked his mother, which surprised both her and Costas who was up on the second floor, temporary hiding under the bed instead up in the attic as usual.

Costas did not like it a bit that Melina was actually smiling at the Germans, especially at the taller blonde officer who did not take his eyes off from her. It was so obvious that he could clearly see it and it was giving him great concern. To further his misery, Costas also noticed that the second officer, a Major in rank was also looking at Melina and the two officers were evidently discussing her.

It was already midday and Colonel Klaus looked at his watch and began to contemplate his next move.

I stopped by the officers' table when I noticed that Senior Officer was checking the time and asked them both if they wanted something else. In unison the two men smiled, thanked me but declined anything else.

Both Klaus and Diehl thought the same thing, that indeed they wanted more, much more from Melina, but not there out in the open and not in front of everyone.

Melina, Colonel Klaus called me back from the door. The Major here and I made a bet about your age. Do us a favor and tell us which one of us is right. Would you do that? I smiled.

Of course, I replied when I really wanted to say that I didn't want to.

I said that you are about fifteen years old, but Major Diehl thinks that you are sixteen. So which of us got it right? He asked. I could feel my face changing color.

The Major noticed it with delight that her alabaster face that was not darkened by the hot sun over Crete turned red from embarrassment. Diehl liked her very much, more than he cared to admit and would very much want to know her better, and not just carnally as Klaus did.

I just turned eighteen years old, I said shyly. The two German shook their heads.

You look younger, Major Diehl remarked.

I can't help it, I replied and tried to smile. The good Lord made me the way I am.

Well said, Colonel Klaus stated. You surely know that you are a beautiful girl, or I should say young woman. Do you have a boyfriend? He wanted to know. I did not like the question at all, and as a matter of fact, I didn't like the entire line of their questioning.

May I get you another beer? I tried to offer something again, instead of replying to the Colonel's question, but something told me that the Colonel was not the kind of man who let any of his questions pass over without getting an answer.

Do you have a boyfriend? He asked again and his voice was different from the one he asked me for the first time. I glanced at the Major and I saw something in the other German officer's eyes that my brain interpreted as a warning about his superior, as if he tried to tell me to be careful with him.

My father doesn't allow me to date yet, I replied and took the empty beer bottles from the table and then walked back inside. My heart was beating fast and I wished and prayed that the Germans would leave very soon.

Once inside the tavern I took a deep breath and looked through the window. I stepped back right away as my eyes met Major Diehl's stare. He actually had a smile in the corner of his lips and I felt guilty for thinking that he was actually a very handsome young man. The Major was almost as tall as the Colonel; both of them had broad shoulders and appeared to have athletic bodies. There was also another big difference between the two officers, Major Diehl's face was a lot friendlier and softer when he looked at me, and he expressed appreciation for my smiles. So I am going to say it, I actually found the German Major very attractive. However; it would be also truthful to admit that I did fear Colonel Klaus, and I knew that if the Colonel wanted to harm me in any way, the Major could not protect me from him. I turned away as I reminded myself that the Germans were our enemies, the occupiers of my beloved village, my island, and later of my entire country. They simply could not be trusted.

Is everything alright? I heard my father's voice. I nodded but I could not fool my father. Animals, he murmured.

Be careful papa, some of them may understand Greek, I warned him as I placed the tray full of empty glasses on the bar. I turned around and watched the German paratroopers as they began to line up, creating a formation in front of their trucks that drove up a few minutes earlier from one of the side streets, from the direction of the olive groves that basically surrounded the village.

Twenty-one soldiers were supposed to line up in front of each truck with one enlisted officer, or so called non-commissioned officer who stood in front of the men and reported to the officers. The Colonel and the Major walked up to the soldiers in formation. I stood in the doorway and watched as they evidently engaged in a headcount to assure that all soldiers were present. I had good sense to notice that something was up because the Colonel engaged in a loud discussion with one of the sergeants.

Papa, something is wrong, I called out to my father who joined me at the door.

I explained what I noticed and my father told me that it would be extremely bad news even if only one soldier were missing. Major Diehl walked up to us with quick steps.

Are there any soldiers inside the bathroom? He asked with his face reflecting anger.

No, sir, I replied. I had to use the downstairs bathroom myself and of course, there was nobody else in there. Major Diehl made a sharp turnabout and rejoined Colonel Kraus.

The Colonel looked toward our direction and there was not a hint of a smile on his face. He began to yell orders and the soldiers present began to run in all directions. My father immediately knew that something happened to the Germans and he was certain that indeed, something extremely bad was going to happen to our neighbors, and perhaps to us very shortly. In his youth he served in the Greek Army and he understood without speaking German that the Colonel just ordered his men to surround our small village of Kondomari.

I looked at my father who was staring in the direction of Costas, my secret boyfriend's house. Did he know or suspect something? I wondered. While I forced myself to remain calm, deep down inside I was becoming very scared. Other than Costas' mother and his little sister, I was the only other person who knew that Costas was back from fighting and that he was hiding in his family's home. I just found that out two days prior to the Germans arrival, when during the night I was up late reading, I noticed light flashing from the Costas room's window. He was signaling me that he was back. I used the flashlight to respond that I got the message. As I mentioned, other than his family, I was the only one in the village who knew about his return and I would not tell that to anyone, not even to my own parents.

The beginning of total chaos was becoming very much evident in the village when the house-to-house searches began. The occupants of the homes were herded into the square where our tavern was also located.

Maria, my mother and my little sister Nia joined father and me at the door, and soon our house was also searched. The small white tables with chairs that were used just a short time earlier were kicked and scattered in all directions. All of us knew that complaining would have worsened the situation. The only thing that was on our minds, while all that was happening in the village where agriculture was the main source of staying alive, that there were no fighting men among them, at least not anymore. Out of the five Kondomari men who left to fight with the New Zealanders, four were dead and the fifth, a young man by the name of Costas Fountas, as far as the villagers were concerned was missing in action.

Major Diehl led the search of our home and while he looked around, behind the bar area, I quietly approached him.

Excuse me, Major, I said when he reentered the bar area. May I have a question, please?

Major Diehl looked at her and it took him great will power not to grab her arm and take her to the back to get better acquainted with her. Perhaps later when the Colonel was not around, he thought.

Make it short, he said in a harsh tone of voice.

What is happening out there? I inquired. He stared at me for a moment, sort of debating if he should tell me or not. I guess he thought that perhaps we would find out soon enough anyway, he replied to my question.

During the roll-call, we discovered that four of our soldiers were missing. After your village's area was searched, we found their dead bodies, he told me. The shock had to be evident on my face.

I can't believe that any of us would do such a thing when so many of you are here, I commented.

Major Diehl could not trust anyone, not even Melina and her family who were in their eyesight during the past few hours; in other words, they could not have been involved in the killing of those soldiers. But, and it was a big but, rules were rules and if there was one German soldier murdered, ten locals would have to pay for that crime with their own lives.

Rules are rules and someone must be held accountable for our soldiers' death, he told me and left our building.

I was not aware of such rules and was not certain what he was implying, but I was hopeful that after the villagers were interrogated, the German surely would realize that they had nothing to do with harming those soldiers and they would leave the village. I knew that it was somewhat of a naïve hope, but that is all I had, other than fear that was shared by my entire family, my entire village.

The people's age in our village ranged between the ages of 25 - 75, although there were some children and a few girls of my age as well. Major Diehl motioned to my family and me to join the other villagers in the middle of the square. After about half an hour, the German soldiers, wearing shorts and not as preppy as they were shown in the village small movie theaters' news footages, lined up both sides of the road that led to one of the olive groves outside the village.

About seventy or eighty of the male residents of Kondomari, including my father were herded to the olive groves and after a brief discussion between Colonel Klaus and Major Diehl, the women, children and old or handicapped men were ordered to return back to their homes and stay inside. Some of the women quietly began to cry, suspecting and fearing the worse. They kept turning around as if they wanted to take one last look at their loved ones. Children not understanding but suspecting that something bad was going to happen to their fathers and grandfathers were crying too as they walked back to their homes.

I kept on looking in the direction of the Colonel who noticed my stare but seemingly ignored me, as he was busy talking to Major Diehl. A few minutes later my mother, my sister Nia and I returned to the tavern, which was left wide open and we collapsed on the chairs inside. My mother tried not to cry, she tried to be strong for us, but I knew that she must have felt the same tightness, the same knot inside her stomach as Nia and I felt. It was an indicator that something horrible was going to happen not only to her beloved husband, Manos, our father, but all the rest of the men who were taken from our village.

I rested my head on my arms on the top of the table when I noticed a shadow in the doorway. I lifted my head up and just as my mother and sister did, we stared toward the direction of the door. We could not see the man's face clearly as it was in a shadow, but when he stepped forward I took a deep breath, it was Colonel Klaus.

A word, Melina, he said to me and motioned me toward the outside. I immediately rose from the chair and joined the German officer by the door. We have a situation, he began. I did not ask, I knew that he didn't really want me to ask what the situation was. I'll be honest with you, I ordered the execution of all of those men we selected from your village. I felt that somehow the air was sucked out of my chest. In my shock, I took a step back.

My father too? I whispered so far the most important question of my life. Colonel Klaus nodded.

I am afraid he is among those who are suspected of murdering my soldiers. All of the men must pay for what they have done, he said coldly.

But Herr Colonel, you can surely remember that my father was busy with accommodating your needs after your arrival and he didn't have a chance to leave the tavern, I said trying to plead.

Oh, I agree with you completely, he said which was surprising and confusing to me at the same time.

So then you will let him go, right? I asked, wanting to be certain that I understood him. He let out a small laugh.

Well, nothing is free in life, including his life, he said and his eyes measured me up from top to bottom. I could feel my hair standing up on the back of my neck.

Colonel Klaus, we are poor people, we don't have any money, I said quietly, and then I added. "We don't have anything that we could offer you for his freedom.

Actually that is incorrect, he said and looked me in the eye. You have exactly what it takes to get his life spared. I shook my head; I genuinely did not understand what he meant.

I don't understand, I told him so, but at that very moment, deep down inside I knew, more like I suspected what he really meant. Colonel Klaus leaned toward me.

I want you, he whispered and straightened up.

Please, have mercy, I said and tears rushed into my eyes. He shook his head.

You don't understand, he said to me. There won't be any crying, there won't be any begging for mercy. I want you to tell me that you want me too. I swallowed hard and glanced in direction of my mother and sister as they were watching me from the inside of the tavern. I took a deep breath when I turned back toward the Colonel who only stood two feet away from me.

And you promise that will set my father free? I wanted him to confirm.

That's right, he told me. I sensed that he was lying but I could not take that chance in case he was telling me the truth. I turned around and began to walk back into the tavern, and then I turned back again and nodded to the Colonel. I could not see the smile of victory on the Colonel's face as he was walking behind me.

My mother grabbed my arm as I headed for the stairs that led to the upstairs living quarters. Dear God, Melina, no, please don't do it, she begged me. I stopped for a brief moment.

Mama, if I don't, papa will die, I replied to my mother's plea and went upstairs, followed closely by Colonel Klaus. I turned around from the top of the stairs and I saw my mother hugging Nia, whose eyes were reflecting fear for me, her much loved older sister. Nia did not ask any questions, it was clear to her that I was sacrificing my only treasure to save our father's life.

Chapter Three

C OLONEL KLAUS LOOKED around in the tidy but poorly furnished room and concluded that it was not any different than the ones he had seen in other villages. The only difference he noticed in Melina's room were the dozens of books on several bookshelves that occupied the space between her shrunk and the wall, a space about four feet long. He smiled at the thought that Melina was not only pleasant to look at, but she was possibly well read by the subjects of the book he noticed on the bookshelves.

He knew that what the beautiful Greek girl said was true about being poor, furthermore, he never had any doubts about that her family barely made the living. He looked at her as she stood a few feet from him without any defiance or defeat reflecting on her face, she seemed more of someone who knew what she wanted. In her case, she wanted to save her father's life. It was an entirely different thing what he wanted, and in his sociopathic mind, he didn't care how he got what he wanted. He killed, maimed and destroyed lives in his military career in the name of the Führer, in the name of the Third Reich, although everything he did was laced with selfish self-purpose.

I looked at the way of the window from where I could see Costas' house. The sheer thought of him made me hate the German officer even more, and I wished him to drop dead on my room's floor, a wish that I could not fulfill because it would have meant certain death to my family. By then I had no doubt what the German wanted from me. Everything that my father, Manos warned me was about to come true. In my heart I wished that I had given myself to Costas, my secret boyfriend that nobody knew about. And now, it came down to this, having a murderer as my first lover. I took a deep breath and turned my head towards the German who was intently watching me.

Take off your clothes, he said in a surprisingly calm voice. I thought that he could be as gentle as he wanted to appear, but he was nothing but a common rapist. I begin to unbutton my blouse and once finished with it, I took it off and placed it on the chair, which stood against the wall by the head of the bed, on the right side of the window. I looked up at him again as he seemingly patiently watched me, savoring my every move, giving him more excitement that he didn't have to do it himself.

Next, I removed my skirt that covered up my legs all the way to my ankles. He immediately stared at my long legs and then slowly he began to lift his eyes higher to my hips. I swallowed hard as I removed my bra, freeing my well-developed breasts that no man has ever seen or touched. I took one more look at him before I pushed down my panties and it was his time to take a deep breath.

Colonel Klaus had never seen such female perfection that he was looking at standing right in front of him. He took off his gun belt and placed it on the small table that stood next to the narrow shrunk by the door. Never for a moment his eyes would leave her. He soaked in every inch of her young, but feminine body. He motioned to her to undo her hair and when she did, her long blonde hair fell like a waterfall down on her back, covering her buttocks. Klaus gasped for air. He was already erect but he still had a way to go because he wanted to have the experience more memorable, and besides, he hadn't decided the fate of the girl after he was done with her.

Lay down on the bed, he ordered me. Without hesitation I did as he told me and rested my hands by my side instead of covering myself. There was no point for that, I knew that clearly.

Colonel Klaus opened the shrunk's door and looked what was inside. He soon saw what he was looking for, there were scarfs, only three of them and he needed four. He noticed a red waistband, he removed that as well.

I watched him as he calmly walked up to my bed and began to tie my ankles to the bars that were at the foot of the bed and my wrists to the bars that served as a headboard. I began to pray in my head and I prayed to God to strike me down dead before the monster was able to take advantage of the situation. I saw that he was pleased, probably because I was not fidgeting or protesting about what he was doing. I suppose my calmness was more than he ever hoped for.

You are so incredibly beautiful, he said to me with a smile that I quickly learned to hate. To be honest, I had a lot of women in my life but not one of them came even close to your beauty. Did anybody ever tell you how beautiful you are? He asked. I slowly shook my head. It shows that you are living among a lot of blind people. He said and laughed on his own joke but I did not even smile.

Colonel Klaus finally removed his black leather gloves and put them on the top of my carefully folded clothes on the chair. He sat back down on the side of my bed and bent down to kiss me. He pressed down hard and his tongue put up a fight to force my mouth open. I was about to gag but he ended the kiss and slapped me across my face.

Tell me that you want me, he told me in a threatening voice. I sighed.

I want you, I replied without conviction.

One more time, he ordered me. I repeated the words that would be carved in my memory forever. That was much better, he said and bent over once again to kiss me. At that time my lips parted despite the fact that the right side of my face was aching from his beating.

He looked at my entire body and with his right hand, the one that he struck me with, Klaus began to caress me from my neck all the way down to my toes, stopping for a brief second in my private area which made him take extra breath before he continued his discovery of my nakedness.

I want you so badly that it hurts me, he said to me and I wished that he would just go ahead and do what he wanted, to get it over with. What he was doing was sheer torture because I didn't know what his next move was going to be. I was more than right about that, because without any preparation, he inserted a finger in my vagina that made me move involuntarily. He withdrew his finger and slapped me on the left side of my face. As if nothing happened, he gently touched my breasts. So you are indeed a virgin. He commented and it was then that I understood what he was doing, he was checking if I was still a virgin or not, and he hit me because I moved.

Thankfully, I thought, the shouting from the outside of our house interrupted his concentration on his activities. Moments later a series of gunshots were heard in a near distance. A minute passed when another round of gunshots were fired. Colonel Klaus got up from the side