The Undefeated Part 2:- Finding Werner

[Stormtrooper1990]

Following their escape from the Russian Sector, Frieda and Karsten have arrived at Frieda's sister, Helga's, farm near the town of Marmstorf in the British Sector. Frieda hasn't seen her beloved daughter, Greta, or her sister in two years. And what makes the potential union bittersweet is the absence of Werner, her husband. However, after the brief reunion with her family, Frieda resolves to infiltrate the American Sector and find a lead on Werner. She intends to break him out for the sake of their daughter, with her best friend Karsten at her side…


Schumacher Farm, Marmstorf, 10 miles from Hamburg, Wednesday 16th August 1945 18:26pm

“So how long has it been since you last seen Greta or your husband, Frieda?” Karsten Jünge asked as she wafted herself irritably with her right hand. “Verdammt! I’m swimming in this thing. How the hell do nuns manage in heat like this?”

They were still dressed in the nuns' clothing they had stolen from their previous owners not two hours before. Now after hitching a lift from a particularly Catholic daily farmer, the two former Wehrmacht stabshelferrinnen found themselves on a balmy midsummer evening walking down a county lane, towards Helga's farm.

“I haven't seen Werner nor Greta in two years…” Frieda sighed, wafting herself with her wimple, the sun catching her ash blonde hair making it shimmer like gold. “ I last saw Werner before he was shipped out to the Siegfried Line. And little Greta? The last time I saw her was when I dropped her off to her sisters, to escape the worst of the Allied bombings. She was only three years old.”

They both paused, remembering when the war had reached them and when they had been captured. It was Karsten who broke the silence. “I'll bet that Greta will be glad to see her mama, no?

As they neared her sister's farm, Frieda rubbed the back of her neck. “She'll be glad when we are all back together.” She said wistfully.

Walking through the gate and into the farmyard, Frieda noticed that Helga had hung the washing out, casting shadows over the yard. Scanning the spaces between the sheets and drying clothes, she saw a familiar small shape playing on the swings, humming "All my ducklings.”

Frieda recognised that long blonde hair and dulcet tone anywhere. “Greta!” She called to the girl who stopped on her swing to look around. “Mama?!” Greta called back as she caught sight of Frieda, breaking into a run.

“Greta!” Frieda broke into a run, pulling up her stolen robes and looking faintly ridiculous. But she didn't care as Greta embraced her in a long hug.

“Mama! I've missed you so much!” She said hugging her mother tight.

With tears in her eyes, she held her daughter close. “Come here my little treasure!” Behind them, Karsten smiled as Frieda picked up her little girl.

“Mama! You've finally come home! Is papa with you?” Greta asked as she eyed the two women up. “And why are you wearing funny clothes?”

Frieda kissed her child on the forehead. “Oh, mein kleiner don't we have a story to tell you.”

Greta cocked her head quizzically at Karsten. “Who are you? Are you mama’s friend?

Karsten flashed the little girl a wink. “Hallo, kinder. I'm Karsten, your Mama's best friend.”

“Mein gött? What are you wearing, Frieda?”

They turned to she a young woman, with the same ash blonde hair, blue eyes and squared facial features as Frieda. She was just as beautiful.

“Helga, meine liebe Schwester!" Frieda cried as her younger sister of 28 ran towards her and Greta, embracing them both. “Frieda!? You're alive? This is excellent news! When I heard about Berlin I feared the worst…”

“Wait? You haven't really joined the sisterhood, right?” Helga asked as she glanced at their stolen habits. “Because our Lutheran father would have a heart attack if he saw this.”

The two sisters laughed, embracing each other again. “So who's this? One of your friends from the Auxiliary?” Helga asked, looking Karsten up and down.

Frieda smiled at Karsten. “Yes, she's a very good friend of mine. She helped me get back to you. Karsten Jünge, this is my sister Helga Schumacher…”

The two shook hands firmly. “Your sisters being modest. We helped each other.”

Helga smiled. “Any friend of my sisters is a friend of mine. Thanks for being there for her.” She then turned back to Frieda. “You two look pretty much done in. How about I fix you guys up with dinner and clean clothes? And you could tell me how you both escaped from the Soviets? And end up dressed as nuns on my doorstep.”

Frieda and Karsten swapped amused glances. “Sounds like a plan.” She stopped to hitch up Greta. “But I warn you, it's a long story.”

Helga shrugged. “Well, it's not like we are going anywhere.” Chuckling, she led the three of them into the farmhouse.

The Farmhouse, 18:45pm


“Sounds like you've both had quite the adventure.” Said Helga as Frieda and Karsten munched down plates of bread and cheese, washed down with water. The two sat opposite her, now dressed in Helga's spare clothes. While Greta was sitting next to her mother, looking innocent as she drew while humming serenely to herself.

Frieda swallowed a large chunk of cheese, chasing it down with a gulp of water. “And we aren't done yet, Helga. Have you heard anything about your Rüdi?”

Helga nodded her head. “Yes. I got a letter from him last week. He says he's well and being held in a British POW camp, just outside of Bremen.


Frieda smiled, she and Werner had always liked Rüdi. He was also a good uncle to Greta, but despite the good news she still felt hollow inside. “What about Werner? Have you heard anything about him?” She asked, crossing her fingers for the sake of herself and her daughter.


Helga sighed, leaning over the table and crossing her hands. “I only know what you know yourself, Frieda. Werner was captured by the Americans as they crossed the Rhine. I'm sorry that's not exactly what you wanted to hear.”


Frieda closed her eyes and made a fist, making a long shuddering sigh. “He probably thinks I'm dead. Why wouldn't he? We were in Berlin when the Reds steamrolled right through. For all he knows were either dead or Soviet prisoners.” She said, her voice tinged with despair, eyes wet with grief.

Karsten instinctively put her hand on her friend's shoulder. “Don't say that, Frieda. We mustn't lose hope. You showed me that when we got out of Potsdam…” she gently squeezed Frieda's shoulder. “...We will find your Werner and my Fritz. Just like we promised each other.”

Frieda nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes before she glanced at her daughter who was still drawing and humming.


Helga turned to Karsten. “Thank you, fraulein. My sister is lucky to have you as a friend.”


Karsten flashed her a smile. “I will try my best. But your sister is a hard act to follow.”


“Look mama look…” Greta had stopped drawing and was holding up a coloured drawing of three stick figures, two large one small. “....it's us. There's you, me and papa. He's staying home for good.” She passed it to her mother.

After a few moments she looked up, her face full of determination. “I have to see him, to let him know that I'm alive and our daughter is waiting for him. And rescue him if that's even possible.”

Next to her Karsten grinned. “I like the sound of that.”

Helga, however, was a little more apprehensive. She reached across the table and took Frieda's hand. “Frieda. If you do this then you, Werner and Greta will become fugitives of the Americans. Is that what you want for her?”

Frieda looked at Greta, who was staring up at her with expectation. She handed the drawing back to her. “Thank you, schnuki.” She then turned to Helga.

“No, it wouldn't be fair to ruin her life. But I still have to see him, sister.”

Helga shook her head, chuckling. “There's no way I'm going to talk you out of this is there?

Frieda gulped down the last of her water and winked. “Not a chance, Helga. Besides you know me? Once my mind's set there's no talking me out of it.”


Rolling her eyes out of affection, Helga turned to Karsten. “What about you, Karsten?”

The brunette shrugged. “Don't look at me, she's your sister. Besides, I made her a promise.”

Helga rose to her feet. “Well in that case, let me help. There's an old junker in the barn, you can use that to get to Frankfurt, the US Army has its HQ there. Maybe you'll find something there on Werner.”

“Thanks sister, I owe you one. Anyway, how did you know that?”

“The Englander are a chatty lot. Especially when they are in the local tavern.”

Helga put her hands on her hips. “Just don't get caught alright. I don't know what I would tell Greta if both her parents were prisoners.”

She took up their empty plates. “Now why don't the two of you get some rest. And Frieda? Spend some time with Greta before you go running off into danger.” With that she retreated into the kitchen, leaving Frieda and Karsten alone with Greta.

“Come here my little treasure.” Frieda said, picking up her daughter.

“Are you going to see papa?” The little girl asked, holding her mother tight.

Frieda rested her head on her daughters. “Yes, liebling. Karsten and I are going to see your father.”

“Can't I come, mama? Please?”

Frieda glanced at Karsten, both women chuckled.

“She's just like her mother, brave and fearless.” The younger woman joked.

Frieda kissed Greta’s head. “No my love, it will be too dangerous. Auntie Helga will look after you.”

The little girl sighed, disappointed. “Aw.”

She glanced at the clock on the mantlepiece. “Well, it's certainly past your bedtime young lady. How about I read you a bedtime story? Would you like that?”

Greta’s eyes lit up. “Yay! Read me Hansel and Gretel. Please!” she giggled.

Smiling Karsten caught Frieda's eye. You put Greta to bed, and I’ĺl help Helga do the dishes.” She turned to Greta, mussing her hair. “Goodnight little one.”

As the two women parted, Frieda cast her thoughts to the day ahead. It pains me that I’ll be leaving my Greta again. But a part of me is looking forward to seeing and holding Werner again.

The Morning After, Thursday 17th August 1945, 07:25am

“Now be a good girl for your Aunt Helga, Okay? My little treasure.” Frieda said, crouching and hugging Greta. They were all standing near the battered old VW junker, which was coughing out petrol fumes in the farmyard.

The little girl sighed. “Why are you going away again? You only just got back.”

Frieda pulled out of the hug. “Because I'm going to see your father!” She grinned.

Greta lit up. “Yay! Will he come back with you mama?”

Frieda, Helga and Karsten swapped glances before Frieda kissed her daughter on the forehead. “Of course,mein kinder. We'll be a family again. You'll see.”


Reluctantly, rising to her feet, Frieda pulled her sister into a hug.

“You take care of yourself, Frieda. Please don't get arrested, both of you.” Helga said, glancing at Karsten, before the two sisters kissed each other on their cheeks.

The brunette German smiled and nodded. “Don't worry, frau Schumacher. I'll watch her back.”

Frieda held Greta’s hand. “Don't worry, Helga. We'll be having schnapps with our men and watching the kids play before you know it.” She squeezed her sister's arm and reluctantly let go of her daughter's hand.

Despite herself, Helga smiled as she stooped to pick Greta up. “I’ll hold you to that, sister. Now you two better get going before the car explodes.’

After saying their reluctant goodbyes, Frieda and Karsten got into the car, while they watched Helga and Greta disappear into the farmhouse.

Frieda leaned against the passenger door, sighing deeply as the door to the farmhouse closed. She wiped a couple of tears from her eyes with her cuff.

Sensing her friend's discomfort, Karsten placed a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright, Frieda? We can stay. You can spend more time with your family.” She said squeezing it.

Frieda shook the melancholy from her mind, and glanced at Karsten. “No, it's fine. They'll be fine. Besides, I made Greta a promise and I want to see this through.”

Karsten nodded then put the car in gear. “You know my friend, we've dodged bombs, bullets and Reds In Berlin. It would be a weird kind of irony if we got killed by a German car.”

Both women laughed. Karsten's humour had relieved the tension she felt. She lent back into the seat, feeling anticipation as the spluttering junker lurched forward onto the road.


Marburg, British/ American Sector Border, 10:23am

The trip down from Hamburg was relatively uneventful, the morning itself was overcast with the peel of thunder on the horizon. Light rain drizzled down on the long train of refugees pouring from the Soviet Sector to the British and American. Frieda and Karsten had joked that the weather matched the mood of Germany itself.

The women had been surprised about how lax the security was at the British and American checkpoints. In fact the tired and bored looking allied soldiers looked pleased to be rid of them as the battered old junker offensively belched out fumes. Frieda and Karsten had used their Bauer sister aliases, citing that their sick mother was in a Frankfurt hospital. The American soldier, looking green from the petrol fumes waved them through without even searching their trunk.

“It was good they didn't search the trunk, eh? A couple of lengths of rope and rags from your sister's barn would have been hard to explain.” Said Karsten as they drove away from the checkpoint into the heart of the American sector.

Frieda smiled. “It was a good thing you found all that, Karsten. Should come in handy if we need to get…creative.”


Karsten chuckled. “I figured we may need a change of clothes at some point, and to keep our victims nice and snug.”

“Was that all you could find?”

Keeping her eyes on the road, Karsten nodded.

“Mhm. Enough for two women. After that we'll need to find more, or you know, improvise.”

Frieda leant into the dogeared passenger seat. “Or do what we do best…” She smiled, looking sidelong at Karsten.

“Get lucky?” She winked.

“No” Frieda grinned. “Make it up as we go.” The two women burst out laughter as Helga's junker soldiered on towards Frankfurt.

Frankfurt Am Main, Taunusstrasse, American Sector, 11:22am

“Well, when we next see your sister we can tell her that she's not getting this junkheap back.” Karsten said as she slammed the hood down on the smoking engine of the VW. The rusted heap had finally given up as they pulled into a ruined alley opposite the Grand Hotel in downtown Frankfurt.

They had asked around the locals for the location of the American HQ. Until one elderly couple, after spitting on the floor in disgust had told them that the US 2nd Armored Division had moved into the Grand Hotel, which unlike the rest of Frankfurt had survived the allied bombing raids relatively unscathed.

Using the cover of the alley and keeping off the bustling streets, the two women stalked forwards to begin their observation. “So we'll need to find a way to infiltrate that hotel, find the records room and see if they have information on Werner.”

Karsten flashed her a dry look. “And by that, you mean steal us some uniforms, right? Do the Americans even have auxiliaries?”

Frieda scanned the front of the hotel, and smiled. It turned out they did.

In addition to the American GIs guarding the front entrance, there were a number of uniformed American women milling around.

Their uniforms consisted of bottle green jackets and skirts, with brown leather pumps and matching garrison cap, with “US” pinned on the front and on the lapels of their jacket, above two crossed sword badges. Underneath was a khaki shirt and tie. On the left shoulders of their jackets was the emblem of the 2nd Armored; red,yellow and blue scalene triangle with a crossed tank and sword, below a black number 2.

“See those American women? They are auxiliaries and we need their uniforms.” Frieda said, pointing to a group of three leaving the hotel.

Karsten nodded. “Ja, but how do we lure a couple back here without anyone noticing?”

Looking to the right of the main entrance, Frieda noticed two young American auxiliaries, early twenties by the look of them. They were leaning up against the wall, away from the other Americans, smoking and chatting.

They were both attractive girls; one with strawberry blonde hair done up in a practical bun, blue doe shaped eyes and heart shaped features, was slim and looked to be Karsten's size. The two chevrons on her sleeves indicate she was a Corporal. While her partner, a taller athletic girl with dark brown hair in bunches, big brown eyes and oval features. On her sleeves were three chevrons, a Sergeant. Frieda grinned She's definitely my size

“You see those two, by the service entrance? They are just our size.”

Karsten nodded, gesturing for Frieda to continue.

“You run up to them and holler in German. Lure them over here. I'll play dead and then we will knock them both out, steal their uniforms.”

Karsten looked at her quizzically. “You really think they will fall for that? They just beat us in a war.”

“Which is why they will be complacent. What? Don't you trust me?”

Karsten looked scandalised. “Of course I do, Frieda. You've got us this far. Besides, they can't be anymore gullible than the Brits, right?

Frieda turned, patting her shoulder. “That's my girl. Okay, you go put on a performance worthy of Leni Riefenstahl and I'll play dead.”

As Frieda walked further into the alley, Karsten grinned.

“One uniform delivery, coming right up.” She said running across the street to the American women.

“So, I noticed that you're wearing actual silk stockings, Edith?” Asked Corporal Lois Stevens, a pretty blonde from Portland, Maine. “I mean the supply situation is FUBAR and all but still. How did you swing it?”

“That's Sergeant Edith, to you Corporal.” Teased Sergeant Edith Schafer, a statuesque brunette from New Jersey.

Lois rolled her eyes. “Ugh! Come on Sergeant we're friends and you're pulling rank on me?”

Edith placatingly held her hands. “Whoa! Easy, Lois. I was just joking, I didn't mean anything by it.”

Lois sighed. “Alright, apology accepted. So about your stockings?”

Leaning against the wall, Edith shrugged with one shoulder. “You know that Lieutenant in the Supply Core? Well, he said he found them in an abandoned house and thought they would look good on my legs.”

The blonde curled her lip. “Uh huh? So is this the part where you tell me you're screwing the guy, right?”

Edith threw her a scandalised look. “Why Edith? A lady never kisses and tells.” She said with a mischievous grin. The two Americans burst out laughing.

The sound of harried footsteps made the two WAACS look up to see a harried young brunette German, dressed like a farmhand.

“ Bitte helft mir, Amerikaner! Meine Freundin ist in der Gasse gegenüber. Ich glaube, sie ist schwer verletzt! ” The girl said, gesturing excitedly to an alley across the street, voice dripping with concern.

Lois moved to placate the distressed German. “Ma’am, please calm down.” She then turned to Edith as the girl repeated the sentence again. “You speak German, Edith. Can you translate what the hell she's saying?”

Edith nodded. “She said that her friend is in the alley across the street and she's hurt really badly…” she gasped, putting her hand to her mouth in shock “...She wants our help.”

The brunette German nodded frantically. “Ja, ja, genau. Bitte folgen Sie mir! Wir müssen ihr helfen! Kommen Sie! ” The German beckoned them forward.

Edith turned to her friend. “Come on Lois, we have to help them. There's a woman down that alley and she needs help.”

Lois nodded, as Edith turned back to the German. “ Gehen sie voran, fraulein. ”

The girl smiled sweetly, leading them to the alley across the street.

The plan worked like clockwork.

Frieda lay on her side in front of the car's rear, smiling as she heard the sound of three pairs of footsteps enter the alley.

She felt herself being turned over on her back. “Oh my God. Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” Said a kindly American woman's voice.

Frieda's eyes flashed open, seeing the pretty brunette auxiliary from across the street. “Oh, I'm quite alright, American. It's your own health you should be fretting over.” She said in English, mimicking an American accent, grinning.

The American blinked in surprise, her face a mask of confusion. “Hey, what's the big id–”

Frieda's sudden right fist to the WAAC's temple cut the woman off. “Ugh?!” She grunted hitting the pavement unconscious with a dull thud onto her side, skirt riding up.

She glanced to see Karsten clamp a hand around the blonde American's pretty mouth to muffle the cries of betrayal. The girl weakly struggled but Karsten put paid to that with a swift punch to the back of her head. Frieda watched the girl squeak into Karsten's mouth, before her big eyes fluttered shut and slumped unconscious in Karsten's grip.


“And here I thought the British were gullible. But these Amerikaner were stupid and gullible.” Karsten said, lowering the unconscious blonde to the pavement and beginning to strip herself. “How did we lose to them, again?”

Frieda chuckled as she knelt by the unconscious American brunette. As she began to undress, her eyes widened, noticing the hint of nude stockings covering the Americans legs. “Are they silk stockings? Actual silk stockings. Wunderbar. I haven't seen a pair like that since ‘42. Sorry, liebe. But I will just be taking those…”

Karsten looked up from peeling off the blonde's jacket. “Lucky cow, I wonder who she had to do to get those.” She remarked, unlacing and pulling off the leather pumps


“Speaking from my own experience, a Lieutenant would be my best bet.” Smiling to herself, Frieda removed the American woman's hat, then unbuttoned her jacket.

10 minutes later

“You know, Freida? These Amerikaner women scrub up quite well. Better than those Russian girls.” Karsten said as she straightened up her stolen garrison cap. “Their uniforms are quite comfy. A little like our old ones.”

“I think we make good Americans? Wouldn't you say, my friend?” Freida replied, buttoning up her stolen jacket.


At their feet lay the unconscious, scantily clad Americans both bound with rope and gagged with rags, their hair was loose about their shoulders where Karsten and Frieda had borrowed their hairpins, copying their hairstyles. The raven haired brunette was dressed only in a white bullet bra with black lace trim and matching briefs, her garter belt and stockings gracing Frieda's legs. While the petite blonde was clad only in a black lace negligee and matching panties, the chilly morning air making the nipples of her perky, small breasts peek through the thin fabric.

Now fully dressed in their stolen uniforms, the two Germans looked down at the half naked Americans. “Right, Karsten. Let's tuck these girls into bed.” She jerked her head behind Karsten's shoulder. “That dumpster looks comfy.”

They picked up the blonde first; Frieda taking under her shoulders and Karsten her feet. Carrying her over to the dumpster, Karsten flipped open the lid and they laid her inside. Next came the brunette, who they laid shoulder to shoulder with the blonde.

“Sweet dreams, frauleins.” Karsten quipped as she closed the lid on the sleeping Americans. She then rubbed her hands together. “So far so good.”

Frieda handed her the blonde's papers. “Okay, your Corporal Lois Stevens from Portland, Maine.” She then glanced at the brunettes. “And I’m Edith Schafer from New Jersey. Now remember, Karsten, if anyone stops us then I'll do the talking. No offence but your English is…”

“…nonexistent. Don't worry, I'll just smile, nod and look pretty. I mean I'm the one with the looks after all. No offence.” She joked, easing the tension.

Frieda chuckled. “None taken, BDM. But we both know I've got both brains and beauty.” She hit back, making Karsten laugh.

She then placed a hand on the brunette's shoulder. “Alright, joking aside. Let's get inside and find out where Werner is.”

The two women left the alley and walked across the street, towards the 2nd Armored Headquarters.

“Okay, get in dressed as yanks, find Werner and not get caught. As easily as apple strudel.” Karsten said under her breath as they passed through the front entrance, returning the salutes from the American GI’s flanking it.

Grand Hotel, Frankfurt, US 2nd Armored Division Headquarters, 11:42 am

Their disguises had worked a treat, allowing them practically free reign throughout the hotel. Not once where they stopped or challenged their uniforms and easy smiles enough to ward off suspicion. For the ex-wehrmacht Auxiliaries, used to being asked for their papers every five minutes, it was a revelation.

Using her expert grasp of the English language, Frieda followed the signs which indicated the archives and records were on the first floor. “Look Karsten, records on the first floor.” She looked over to the elevator bank, which looked to be out of order. “Lifts are out of order, so let's take the stairs.

Walking across the lobby, the two women took the richly appointed stairs, passing a couple of WAACs on the way down who saluted them both, which were swiftly returned.

As they reached the thick wooden oak doors, leading to the first floor, they opened to reveal an American private who saluted them and held the door open for them. “Thank you, private.” Frieda said to the young man in her false American accent, who flashed them both smiles before disappearing down the stairs.

“Nicely done.” Remarked Karsten as they entered the first floor.”

Grand Hotel 2nd Floor 11:50am

Following the signs to the records room through the corridors of the second floor, the two auxiliaries passed hotel rooms converted into offices for officers or serving as makeshift barracks and officers quarters.

They passed many WAAC's and soldiers, even the odd officer that they had to salute just to maintain their cover.

After several minutes of navigating the dimly lit floor, Frieda and Karsten arrived at the records room. Originally room 126, the doors number had been partially concealed by a black sign with the words “Records” painted in white.

Frieda knocked in the door, breathing a sigh of relief when she received no replay. Good, At least we'll have privacy.

She turned to Karsten. “Looks like nobody's home. You stand watch out here. If anyone comes along, knock twice and I'll handle it. Clear?”

The brunette nodded and winked. “You got it. And Frieda…” She placed a hand on Frieda's shoulder and gently squeezed “...good luck. I hope you find what you're looking for.”

“Thank you, Karsten.” She touched Karsten's hand on her shoulder before disappearing into the room.

Records Room 11:58am


Despite the relatively small size of the room, Frieda had to admit that the Americans had made good use of the space. Against the far wall, next to a door that led out onto a balcony, were rows of labelled filing cabinets that snaked along the south wall. She had also noticed that someone had knocked the adjoining walls to the bathroom and bedroom gutting it, making room for an additional ten cabinets. At the centre of the largest room were two long wooden tables and chairs.


“Alright, Frieda let's get to work.” Outstretching her hands and cracking her knuckles, she walked around the table and began rifling through the cabinets.


What seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack proved to be just that. For the next 15 minutes, Frieda had learned that the US military had requisitioned over 100 tubes of toothpaste, 200 pairs of socks and over 300 rolls of something called “duct tape,” whatever that was. She sighed, having filed her fair share of requisition forms in the Wehrmacht.


But Frieda remained undaunted. This is for my family, I cannot give up now. I won't. She thought, putting away the requisitions file and moving to the next cabinet. “Here goes nothing…” she whispered, pulling open the drawer and diving in.

Her heart skipped a beat, when she pulled out a thick file labelled ‘German POWs:- American Sector’. Frieda gasped. “This is it. Werner has to be in here.”

Sitting down she opened the file, finding a piece of paper with the 2nd Armored letterhead. One sentence catching her eye. “‘All camps are policed by German prisoners, and medical needs tendered to by captured or local medical practitioners. The only US military personnel are minimal MP support.’” She read aloud. “Now that is interesting.” Storing the information away, Frieda flicked through the papers, until she got to H.

Feeling the anticipation building in her breast, Frieda read down the list until she came to the middle. “‘Herzog, Werner, Hamburg. Taken to Heilbronn camp, Baden-Wurttemberg.”’ She laughed, tears of joy in her eyes. “That's it. He's only down the road. Wunderbar!” Looking twice to memorise the camp name, she replaced the documents and shoved them back into the cabinet before briskly walking out of the room with a spring in her step.


She found a bored Karsten, leaning against the opposite wall. “Where have you been? It seemed like you were taking for- Wait? You've got a huge grin on your face…” She said seeing Frieda's expression.

She nodded excitedly. “Ja. Werner is being held at Heilbronn camp, Baden-Wurttemberg.

Karsten nodded. “Helibronn? I saw a roadsign on the way here, it's only 40 miles down the road south. But we still need transportation.”

Frieda patted her on the shoulder. “One thing at a time, my friend. Let's get out of here.”

1st floor Stairwell 12:16pm

As the two Germans left through the wooden doors, they bumped into two American soldiers coming the other way.

“Whoa! Easy there ladies.” Said a tall ginger haired Staff Sergeant with pale freckled features, while his partner, a shorter fair haired Corporal stood behind him.

Frieda quickly saluted. “Sorry, Sergeant. We didn't see you. Corporal.” She answered in a perfect imitation of a New Jersey accent.

Karsten, however, stayed silent.

The Corporal eyed her with a mixture of suspicion and attraction. “What's wrong with your friend, Sergeant? Cat got her tongue?”

Frieda glanced at Karsten, who looked nervous and quickly acted.

She drew close to the men. “Oh that's my friend Lois. She gets nervous, speechless actually, around men she finds attractive." She whispered.

The Sergeant clapped the corporal on his back. “Looks like you struck gold, Taylor. Just remember the rules about fraternising with the WAAC.”

Taylor looked at Karsten, checking out her figure. “Well in that case. We should meet up in the tavern later for drinks. I would like to get to know Lois a little better.”

Frieda flashed him a wink. “I think we might like that. Wouldn't we, Lois?” She glanced at Karsten, lightly touching the brunette's foot, who smiled and nodded, looking decidedly even more nervous.

The ginger haired Sergeant took it as read. “Very well, ladies till tonight.” He saluted before turning to Taylor and rolling his eyes. “Come on, Taylor quit ogling Lois. You’ll have plenty of time to chat her up later.”

Taylor blushed bright red. “Uh, right, Staff Sergeant Barnes. Ladies, see you tonight.” He saluted before disappearing reluctantly with Barnes.

Breathing a collective sigh of relief, Frieda and Karsten backtracked down the stairs and through the lobby back towards the main entrance. “What did you say to those Americans?” She said under her breath.

Frieda couldn't help but smile. “I told him that you were shy around attractive men.”

Karsten shook her head. “I'm not!” She hissed. “He wasn't even my type! I don't like blonde men!”

Frieda chuckled. “You should see your face.”

Karsten gently pushed her. “Just you wait, college girl.” She teased as they walked back out onto the street.

Taunusstrasse, 12:21pm

“Well, well, would you look at that, Karsten. Our American friends left us a little gift.” Said Frieda, gesturing to the green open topped Willy's jeep parked across from the hotel. The white US star painted proudly on its hood and chassis.

Karsten looked impressed. “So this is the Americans answer to the Kübelwagen?” She slid into the driver's seat. “And they've left the keys in the ignition, how considerately foolish of them. Not that I'm complaining.”


Frieda slid into the passenger seat, as Karsten switched on the ignition, smiling at the soft purr of the engine before pulling away.


As they travelled south, through the rubble strewn streets and past refugees, Frieda noticed a roll of grey tape in the footwell.


“What do we have here?” She said, reaching down and showing Karsten.

“What's that? Some sort of new fangled American invention? Looks like a big roll of tape to me.”


Frieda smiled, turning it in her hands. “I think this is what the Americans call ‘Duct Tape.’


Karsten shook her head, keeping her eyes forward. “Huh? What do they need it for? Sealing ventilation shafts?” She joked, skepticism in her voice.

As they went over a bump in the road, Frieda had a brainwave. “Or we could use it to bind unconscious women.” It wasn't a question but more a statement.

Karsten chuckled. “ Not to make your head swell but have I ever told you, I like the way you think?”

“Frequently, but then again I come up with the best laid plans.” Frieda replied, stashing away the tape in a satchel.

“Right, I was going to tell you something about the camp before we got rudely interrupted.”

The brunette nodded. “I'm all ears. Let's hear it…”


National Route 6, 10 miles outside Wiesloch, 20 miles from Helibronn Camp 13:03pm


The drive down from Frankfurt proved uneventful, the sky remained a shade of obnoxious grey and the roads were still packed with refugees. But at least the rain had stopped. Their stolen uniforms and jeep drawing stares from the passing refugees; some of despair, others of gratitude and even a few disgusted glances.

“Let's keep to the side-roads, Karsten. We’ll make better time by avoiding these refugees.”

Nodding, Karsten veered the jeep right into a country lane where the little Jeep’s off road suspension performed admirably.

They barely travelled over halfway down the lane when a young woman dressed in a nurse's uniform ran towards them, waving her arms frantically. “Wait, wait. Please, stop!.” She shouted in English, with a touch of Frankfurter twang. Ahead was a grey Phänomen-Granit 25H ambulance, a large red cross painted on its side. Another young nurse emerged from its cab, clutching a map and began walking towards them.

Karsten brought the jeep to a halt, allowing them to get a good look at the nurse; They were both young and attractive examples of German womanhood wearing the blue dresses, white aprons and black flat shoes of the German red cross. The red cross itself decorating their aprons and head coverings.

The one flagging them down was a cute girl, with oval shaped features, with high freckled cheekbones with bright narrow teal coloured eyes and a strand of auburn hair peaking from under her hat. While the one with the map was shorter and had a fairer complexion with diamond shaped features and hazel eyes, with a hint of chestnut coloured hair under her hat.

The redheaded nurse breathed a sigh of relief. “Americans, it's good you came by. We need your help.” She turned back to the approaching nurse beckoning her forward. “See? I told you they would stop, Elsa.”

Frieda and Karsten got out of the jeep.

“Sure, what can we do for you, ladies ?” Frieda asked in her false but fluent American accent.

The redheaded nurse put her hands on her hips as the blonde laid out the map on the jeep.

“I’m Liesel Hoffman and this is Elsa Brandt. We're nurses from St Catherine Hospital in Frankfurt and between the refugees and destruction we're a little lost. You see, we were enroute to the Helibronn Camp to deliver much needed medical supplies and I'm afraid we may have taken a wrong turn. Could you please give us directions, ja?

Frieda and Karsten glanced at each other when Helibronn was mentioned, a flicker of recognition flashed between them.

“Of course, ladies. Can I take a look at your map? Frieda asked as Karsten deliberately placed herself behind Elsa.

Frieda leaned over the map, luring Liesel closer. “It looks like you took the wrong turn here, see?”

Following Frieda's finger, Liesel made a triumphant sound. “A-ha! I knew Elsa had it all wrong. Danke, American.”

Clearing her throat Frieda grinned. “ Es tut uns sehr leid, meine Damen. Aber wir werden Ihre Kleidung und Ihren Krankenwagen benötigen. ” She said slipping into her natural Hamburger accent (“We are sorry about this, ladies. But we need your clothes and ambulance.”)

Liesel reared back in surprise. “ Was zum Teufel? Eure Deutschen? Ich verstehe das nicht. Nein! Bitte nicht -Ugh?!” (What the hell? Your Germans? I don't understand. No! Please don't - Ugh?!”)

A swift right hook sent the nurse sprawling onto the road on her front where she lay unconscious. At the same moment, Karsten punched Elsa in the back of her head, eliciting a small squeak of pain from the girl who collapsed forward onto her side, unconscious, next to Liesel.

Karsten massaged her fist. “We are getting frighteningly good at this.”

Frieda knelt by Liesel, and began stripping off the WAAC uniform. “Not to mention lucky. I'll take Liesel here, she's my size.”

Karsten crouched by Elsa, caressing the collar of her dress. “And I'll take Elsa, she's close enough to my size.” She took off her hat and jacket. “You know, you were just talking about Germans staffing the camp and needing a change of clothes. Now here we are. Coincidence?”

Frieda shrugged, unlacing Liesel’s apron. “I guess we just have a guardian angel. Or sheer dumb German luck. Come on, let's get their clothes off.”

Ten Minutes Later

“Have I ever told you that ever since I was a little girl that I always wanted to be a nurse?” Said Karsten as she laced up Elsa’s apron.

“No, I don't believe you've ever told me that. But you did tell me that you learned basic first aid in the BDM.” Replied Frieda, tucking her hair behind Liesel’s hat.

“Well how do I look?” Karsten smiled, twirling in Elsa’s uniform.

Frieda winked back. “You certainly look the part, my friend. Perhaps once things have calmed down…”

At their feet lay the scantily clad and unconscious bound bodies of Liesel and Elsa. Liesel was wearing just a cream coloured satin slip with floral lace detailing, the nipples of her youthful well formed breasts peeking through. While Elsa was wearing a pale pink bra and matching satin french knickers. Their wrists and ankles were taped, along with their mouths.

Karsten shrugged, taking Elsa by her ankles. “Maybe. But first things first, let's find our men first, ja?”

Putting her hands under Liesel’s shoulders, Frieda dragged the redhead over to the road ditch, and rolled her over the edge. Karsten did the same with Elsa, the girl coming to rest at Liesel’s side. They then placed their discarded WAAC uniforms, neatly folded next to them.

“That duct tape worked like a charm, and there's more left. Let's keep it for now.” She said turning from the ditch and walking to the ambulances passenger side.

Returning for the map, Karsten scooped it up and climbed into the driver's side. “So it looks like we are just half an hour from the camp, especially if we stick to the side roads.” She pointed to the outskirts of Helibronn.

Frieda nodded. “Good. Let's go, I am eager to see my husband again.”

“Right behind you.” Karsten said, putting the ambulance into gear, heading east.


Helibronn Prisoner Of War Camp, 13:35pm

“So these are the medical supplies we requested? You're running a little late.” Said the American Corporal from the 2nd Armored as he scanned their papers.

From the passenger seat Frieda smiled. “Sorry, Herr Corporal but between the refugees and chaos on the roads we took a wrong turn. But frankfully some kind Americans gave us directions to this camp. And here we are.”

The man looked satisfied. “Alright no problem…” he handed Karsten back the papers. “...you'll need to take these to a Dr Major Heinrich Glöcke in the medical hut, he's the head sawbones. Once you enter the camp, it's on the first left, opposite huts one and two.”

“Danke schön, Herr Corporal.” She smiled, leaning back into the passenger seat. The American nodded his head before gesturing to his partner, a private. “Okay, Samuel's. Open it up.”

Putting the Ambulance into gear, Karsten drove through camp, while Frieda relayed the Corporals instructions to her in German.

As they pulled up a thin bespectacled balding man in a white coat over a faded wehrmacht, officers uniform, minus the eagle, emerged from the hut, flanked by two young nurses.

He held his hand, which they shook in turn. “I'm Dr Major Heinrich Glöcke. And you two must be the young nurses with our medical delivery, wunderbar. I trust there were no complications on the way getting here, meine damen?”

Karsten shook her head. “Nein, Herr Doktor. Just the long lines of poor souls coming from the east, and remnants of the war.”

The Doctor looked grave. “Ja, I wish we could do something for them. It is them as much as our soldiers that have suffered the most for the Führer's madness.”

The three Germans stayed silent for a moment, remembering the lost. Heinrich then looked up, gesturing to the nurses to begin unloading the van. “But enough of the past, ja? We'll have your ambulance unloaded in no time at all, so you'll be back to Frankfurt for dinner. But in the meantime, feel free to wander the camp, it will do good for the men’s morale to see two pretty nurses.” He then thumbed over his shoulder. “Or you can pitch in and give us a hand. Nothing serious, just a few lacerations and minor abrasions. Nothing you can't handle.”

Frieda and Karsten glanced at each other. “I'll have a little look around the camp, thank you, Herr Doktor.”

While Karsten nodded. “I would like to pitch in and assist, it does look like you're short staffed.”

The Doktor nodded, looking resigned. “Ja, it's true, thank you nurse…”

Karsten reacted quickly. “Nurse Elsa Brandt.” She curtseyed. “At your service “

Frieda parroted Karsten. “Nurse Liesel Hoffman, Herr Doktor.”

Flashing her a knowing smile, Karsten followed Heinrich into the medical hut. Leaving Frieda alone. Taking a deep breath, Frieda turned to the huts and began her search for Werner in earnest.

Hut 3 13:42pm

She checked huts one and two, finding the conditions cramped but the soldiers in fine spirits. Frieda got a few appreciative wolf whistles from the men in both huts but found only enlisted men in both huts. She glanced over to a young Sergeant near the door playing his harmonica.

“Excuse me Sergeant? Where can I find the officer's hut?” She asked as the man looked at her , his jaunty ditty dying away.

“The officers' hut? Try next door, Fraulein. Just follow the sound of Marlene Dietrich.” he winked before returning to his harmonica.

As she approached hut 3, Frieda caught the dulcet tones of Marlene Dietrich singing Lili Marleen coming from the open door. She was instantly transported to five years ago. This is our song, we played it at our wedding and danced to it the night before he was deployed to France. Could he be in there right now?

With nervous anticipation, she entered the hut. Humming the song gently. At the far end of the hut, she found a group of three men dressed in Wehrmacht uniforms with insignia removed, seated around a small round table. It was then she heard a familiar voice.

“...Klaus, tell the Amerikaner Colonel that we thank him for the medical supplies. But now we need food. I swear if I have to eat another sawdust cracker…”

“Jawohl, Herr Hauptmann.” A balding blonde Lieutenant saluted

Frieda's heart skipped as she heard the familiar Hamburger lilt that she hadn't heard in two years.

With tears in her eyes, she began to sing louder. Vor Kaserne, vor dem goßen Tor, Steht' ne Laterne und steht sie noch davor… The meeting stopped and the tall man turned to face her.

She gasped, it was Werner, her dearest Husband. Granted he had lost a little weight and had a morning stubble to match his unruly brown hair that was a little too long. But it was him, she recognised his blue soulful eyes anywhere.

“Is that your wife, Hauptmann Herzog?” Asked the other man, a gaunt auburn haired man with the rank epaulettes of a major.


“Freida?! My Frieda!” He cried running towards her and embraced her. “You're alive!” Laughing, he twirled her and kissed hard on the lips, full of relief and tenderness. They held each other close for a minute before parting.

The Major smiled and gestured to Klaus. “We can conclude this later. Werner, you have the room and your privacy. Come, Leutnant.” The two men filed past them, each saluting Werner before leaving the hut.

Now alone, Frieda giggled with contentment Werner's arms around her again. “Hauptmann, eh? When did that happen?”

Werner smiled. “It was shortly before Remagen. I would have written to you but you know how bad things were…” She smiled, holding him close, until he broke the silence.

“Meine liebchen, I thought you were dead. When I heard that the Russians had taken Berlin, I had feared the worst...”

Frieda caressed his cheek. “No not dead, mein schatz. Karsten and I were captured by the Russians but we escaped and made it back home, to Hamburg.”

The two walked over to the table and held hands over the table.

“How's our little treasure? Is she safe? Did you see her?”

Frieda squeezed his hand. “She is hale and hearty, husband. And eager to see her Papa again. She's living with Helga at her farm in Marmstorf.”

Werner took Frieda's hand and kissed it. “That's music to my ears, Liebchen. But what are you doing here? Risking your life to get to me? When our little Greta needs you the most. And dressed as a nurse of all things.” He scolded her but with no venom in his voice. “Wait? How did you get here in that outfit? I mean no offence, Liebchen, but you can barely stitch a pillow.”

Frieda stroked his cheek. “Mein Schatz, I promise I will tell you everything once we get you out of this place.”

Werner burst out laughing. “Meine liebchen, are you joking? It's good that you've still got your sense of humour.”

Frieda's face went the colour puce and she narrowed her eyes. “Werner, mein liebling. I’m being serious, let's go right now.”

Werner stopped laughing when he saw the look on his face. “Mein Gött, you're serious aren't you.”

She nodded and Werner sighed. He reached over and cupped her face with his right hand.

“Meine eins und alles, I can hardly live the life of a fugitive now can I? And what about you? And Greta?”

She leaned into his touch, remembering Helga's words. Tears were strolling down her cheekbones. “Mein Schatz, I've waited for two years and so has little Greta. She needs you…I need you.” She gasped, her voice barely audible.

Werner, himself shedding tears, kissed her on her lips. “Frieda, don't cry schatzni. I'll be out soon, you'll see. You know me, I'm no more a nazi then you are. Besides, I'm only still around because Major Schneider values my opinion and I wanted to stay with my men, to make sure the Americans treated them fairly.” He leaned into Frieda’s hands. “Once things have settled down and the camp is running more smoothly, I'll have a talk with the Major, see if he can't put in a good word for me. Everything will be fine, trust me.”

Frieda sighed. “Of course I trust you, we've been married for five years. But I'll hold to that.” The two laughed before getting up.

They held each other's hands, looking at each other like a pair of young lovebirds. Werner leaned in to kiss her. “Meine liebchen, I hate to say this but you should go. If they were to discover you…”

Frieda sighed, reluctantly taking her hands out of Werner's. “Tsk.Fine, but when you get back. We are going to have sex, lots and lots of mad sex.” Werner laughed, kissing her deeply. “Now that I will hold you to.”

She looked straight into his big blue eyes. “I love you.”

He smiled, hugging her close. “I love you too.”

Reluctantly, tearing herself away from her husband Frieda walked to the door.

“And Frieda…?”

Werner's voice made her turn around. “...Tell Greta, her Papa loves her, and give my best to Karsten. Auf Wiedersehen, my love.”

Frieda blew him a kiss. “I will and I promise that I'll write to you, now I know where to find you. Auf Wiedersehen, sweetheart.”

With that she wiped her eyes, and made her way back to the ambulance with a spring in her step.

Outside the Medical Hut 13:55pm


She found Karsten leaning against the rear doors of the ambulance, arms folded with a pensive look on her face. The brunette nodded when she met Frieda's eye.

“So how did it go? Did you find Werner?”

Frieda couldn't resist grinning from ear to ear. “Yes! He's doing very well, a little thin but he's fine. And Karsten…we kissed! The first time in two years! I feel glorious!”

“That's wonderful news, I'm very happy for you both.” Karsten said with a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, which looked away wistfully.

Frieda's grin disappeared. “Oh Karsten, I'm so sorry. That was thoughtless of me…” She gently placed a hand on the younger woman's shoulder, squeezing it. “...here I'm going about Werner, when you're thinking of Fritz.”

Karsten shook her head, tears welling up in her big blue eyes. “I-its fine Frieda. I don't mean to rain on your parade. I-its just...I don't know whether my dear Fritz is alive or dead. W-what if he's been marched off to Siberia?Or worse...?” Her voice trailed off with a sob.

Frieda squeezed the brunette's shoulder. “Karsten? You'll see Fritz again. Mark my words.”

Karsten chuckled and wiped her eyes. “Y-yeah, I believe you. Well, the ambulance has been unloaded so let's just get out of this place and make it to Landsberg am Lech, my home.”

As they boarded the ambulance and Karsten switched on the ignition, Frieda noticed a little blood on the hem of her stolen apron.

Maneuvering the vehicle towards the checkpoint, Karsten noticed her gaze.

“I did well in the infirmary.” She answered, puffing out her chest with pride. “Dr Glöcke said I had talent. ‘Bad form’ he said but natural talent. Which he put down to the war forcing girls into nursing roles, and not to my not being a nurse.”

“Did he say anything else?” Asked Frieda as they waited for the American soldiers to lift the barrier.

Karsten smiled. “He also said I have what it takes to be a real lifesaver. And you know what, Frieda? I liked it myself, helping people, healing them. So I've decided once after everything has calmed down, that I'm going to give it a shot at being a real nurse.”

As they were waved past by the guards, Frieda patted her on the shoulder. “That's my girl! I think you'll make an excellent nurse. You won't even have to steal the uniform off one.”

They both burst out laughing, as Karsten turned the ambulance right at a T-section heading south-east away from the camp.

As their laughter died down, Karsten returned her gaze to the road. “You know once we get to Landsberg, I'll introduce you to my parents, Magda and Gunther. They'll put you up for the night and in the morning we’ll separate, so you can get back to Greta.

Frieda sighed at the news. “I’m going to miss you, Karsten. You're a good friend.” She said leaning back into her seat.

Karsten looked sidelong at her. “ So are you, Frieda. You've been there for me too. I want you to know that I love you as a sister.”

“ I love you too, dear friend.” Frieda replied looking wistfully from the window, suddenly feeling as downcast as the whether outside.


Country Road, 50 Miles West of Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, Southern Germany, American Sector, 16:08pm


They had made good progress through the small sideroads, despite the road being a bumpy and uncomfortable one, their stolen ambulance clearly not suited to off road travel.


After passing through a village that reminded Frieda of something out of a Grimm fairytale, Karsten looked down irritably at her nurses uniform.


“It's only just occurred to me that I cannot return home dressed like this, and in an ambulance to boot. God knows what mama and papa would think of us.” They jolted as the ambulance passed over a rock. “Plus, I don't to leave this ambulance anywhere near my home, lest the Americans track it down due to our recent…adventure. And then there's the other thing…”

Frieda nodded, letting her continue.

“I don't want to tell my parents about our said adventure, because they definitely wouldn't approve. Especially if they learn about us attacking nuns…”

Frieda laughed. “Yes, I can quite imagine that robbing a pair of nuns won't go over well with your Catholic parents.”

Karsten took her eyes off the road, chuckling. “That and the whole mugging other women thing. Anyway, we'll need a change of clothes and car. Perhaps in the next village over?”

Frieda nodded. “Good call. When we reach the next village, we'll have to find a way to - “

Suddenly, there was a loud crash and the ambulance came to a sudden halt.

“...What the hell was that?” Karsten said raising her head from the steering wheel. “Did we just hit something?”

Creaking her neck, Frieda peered out of the window. It was an empty horse and cart, pulled by a huge draft horse, that whinnied irritably. It's owners, who had dived out of the way to avoid the ambulance, were two young and attractive girls, garbed in traditional Bavarian dresses. The first, a stunning attractive blonde with long braided honey blonde hair, blue eyes and squared features was wearing a low cut dress with a black apron with floral detailing, white short-sleeve chemise and red checkered skirt. While her partner, a cute girl with long curly dark brown hair, green eyes and heart-shaped features was wearing a pretty dress of black and red laced bodice, white frilly chemise and green long skirt with white detailing. Both girls had black leather flat shoes.

Frieda pointed at the girl's, who were groggily trying to pull themselves off the road. “I think our clothing delivery as just fallen on our lap. Look, farm girls.”

Karsten laughed, shaking her head. “We really do have all the luck. Right, we need something to put them to sleep…” Glancing at the back of the ambulance she disappeared into the back. “Karsten, what are you doing? They are going to recover any minute.”

“A-ha!” The brunette cried in triumph, producing two vials containing a clear liquid and two cotton pads. “I noticed we had choloform in the back earlier. Put a little on these rags, dose them up with this and they are off to dreamland. Better than punching them at any rate.”

Frieda nodded, accepting one vial. “Nice work Karsten. I'll take the brunette, she's my size…”

Karsten clambered back into the cab with the other vial. “...and that leaves the blonde to me. Her dress us more my colour anyhow. Let's do this.”

The two women left the ambulance, just as the blonde was coming too.

22 year old blonde Katrin Schwartzkopf, rubbed the back of her neck as she came to. She quickly glanced back to her friend, 21 year old Annette Lehmann who was still on her back stunned but awake, then checked on their horse, Bubi who seemed none the worse for wear.

Blinking, she noticed two nurses walking towards them. “What were you thinking? Just because you drive an ambulance doesn't give you right drive like lunatics!” She shouted to the first, who knelt by her while the other tended to her friend.

“Don't panic, fraulein. Here's something to help you relax.” The woman said clamping a sweet smelling rag onto her face. Katrin bucked and kicked as she felt the chemical fumes enter her nostrils and down through her lungs. She feebly shot her arms up to pull the nurse off, but it was a futile gesture. The girl felt more and more relaxed as the sweet fragrance overwhelmed her. Then letting out a low muffled sigh, her arms falling limply to the tarmac as she fell into a deep sleep.

Looking over her shoulder, Karsten saw Frieda straddle the brunette clamping the chloroform stained rag on her sweet face. The girl kicked and bucked but eventually succumbed to the powerful anaesthetic, slumping unconscious underneath Frieda with a soft slurred breath.

Tossing the rag aside, Frieda wasted no time stripping off her nurse uniform. “I got to say, that was quite exhilarating. More gentler in a way.” She said rolling Annete onto her back and unlacing her dress.

“Well, that was the only vial I’m afraid.” Karsten replied unlacing Katrin’s shoes, pulling them off before getting started on her apron.

“Just as well, since this might just be the last time we have to do this. Come on, let's get these girls stripped. We shouldn't keep your parents waiting.”

[Stormtrooper1990]

6 minutes later

“I know I'm Bavarian but would you believe that this is the first time I’ve worn a traditional dress.” Remarked Karsten as she finished lacing up Katrin’s dress.

“Really? I thought you farm girls always get one when you come of age?” asked Frieda’s she adjusted the chemise of Annette’s dress, showing off a little of her cleavage.

The dresses' previous owners were half-naked and bound and gagged with tape, curled up next to each other in the back of the ambulance, sleeping soundly. Katrin’s hair was loose around her bare shoulders, as Karsten had copied her braided ponytail. The blonde wore only red and white checked panties with frilly lace trim, her small perky breasts with pink rose petal areolas. While the smaller Annette was wearing only a pair of navy blue lace knickers, her fuller well rounded breasts with dark pink roundel areolas exposed to the cool afternoon air.

Karsten shrugged. “Not for me. As soon as I was 13, I was straight into a BDM uniform."

Frieda nodded appreciatively. “Well it suits you, just like you said.”

Karsten smiled. “It does, doesn't it? I think I’ll keep it. But if my parents ask, we just snagged these off a clothes line.”

Slamming the doors shut on the naked farm girls, Frieda and Karsten pushed the ambulance into the ditch and walked towards the waiting horse and cart.

Karsten smiled at the horse. “Easy there boy. Sorry about running into you and attacking your mistresses...” She patted the horse’s flank as Frieda climbed into the back of the cart. “...But could you do us a favour and get us to Landsberg?” The horse whinnied in agreement. “That's my boy.”

As she wheeled the horse around, Karsten looked up at Frieda. “We are about a couple of hours from Landsberg. So sit back and enjoy the ride.” Nodding the blonde German relaxed as the cart trundled east.

Landsberg am Lech, Bavaria, Southern Germany, American Sector, 18:25pm


As soon as they entered Karsten's picturesque home town, the two had left the horse and cart in the town square and began the slow walk up to Karsten's family home.

“I haven't been back here for 5 years, not since Fritz and I enlisted. It feels strange coming back now.”

Frieda linked her arms in Karsten's. “I know what you mean, Karsten. I haven't seen Hamburg for that long either. Now I shudder to think what we’ll be going back to.”

They walked up a winding road, houses on one side and a slope with a generous view of the mountains on the other. Karsten stopped and pointed to a large study oak, a look of longing on her face. “That's where Fritz and I had our first kiss. He called me his little edelweiss…” She sighed tearfully before continuing up the path.

They eventually arrived to a modest house, a little two story house made from timber, plaster and stone foundations. Frieda had to admit that it was more homely when compared with the townhouses found in Hamburg.

“Is that your home Karsten? It looks very cosy.”

Karsten smiled. “Just wait until you meet my parents, they’ll give a very warm Bavarian welcome.”

Opening the gate, they walked up to the big wooden door. Karsten paused, wiping away tears, before knocking three times.

The door opened to reveal a kind looking, portly woman with greying black hair and a strong family resemblance to Karsten. She gasped in shock, joy in her eyes.

“Hallo, mama. I'm home.” Karsten said as her mother, Madga pulled her into a crushing bear hug. “Mäuschen! You've come back to us! We thought you were dead when we heard about Berlin!” She turned. “Gunther! Come here, our little Mäuschen has finally come home!”

Then appeared a thin balding man with mousy brown hair and round spectacles framing deep brown eyes. He instantly hugged both his wife and daughter. “Karsten, it's so good to see you home. But how did you escape from the Russians? And who's this? A comrade of yours?” Asked Gunther.

Karsten pulled out of the hugs and introduced Frieda. “Mama, Papa. This is Frieda Herzog, my best friend. If it wasn't for her, we would have never gotten free of the Russians.”

Frieda smiled. “Your daughter is being modest, she did her part too-” she was interrupted by Madga’s bear hug and then Gunther’s.

“You helped our daughter, Frau Herzog. Any friend of hers is welcome in our home!” Gunther declared, beckoning her inside.

Madga looked at their clothes. “So how did you escape the Soviets? And why are you dressed like this, Mäuschen?”

Karsten looked pointedly at Frieda. “It's a very long story, full of daring! And best told over bratwurst, a cold beer and apple strudel!”

Madga smiled. “Well come in, we've got both to spare!”

As the two women were beckoned inside. Frieda couldn't help but wonder if this was really the end of their journey.

As the door closed behind them Frieda thought I hope Fritz is well, wherever he is. And that someday he and Karsten reunite, she deserves to be happy.

[saker]

Great continuation of the story! My favorite scenes were the one with the nurses and then the one with the Bavarian girls! This was a bit of a first-time story, with the girls trying out, with great effectiveness, duct tape to tie up their victims, and Kasten wearing a traditional Bavarian dress for the first time!

Karsten smiled. “It does, doesn't it? I think I’ll keep it. But if my parents ask, we just snagged these off a clothesline.”

This line made me laugh a lot: as if Karsten's parents wouldn't care much about the clothing theft, as long as she doesn't attack someone for it.
Finally, regarding the pacing of the story, I found it very realistic that Werner didn't escape with them: I mean, the Americans have historically treated German prisoners of war quite well. If he had escaped, they would probably have caught him and punished him severely. I imagine, however, that saving Fritz from the Soviets won't be so easy. I wonder how he'll escape from the Russian prison camp. Perhaps Karsten and Frieda will have to steal a male Russian soldier's uniform to help him escape his captors? Maybe they'll seduce a guard, conveniently disguised as female Soviet soldiers, to steal the clothes Fritz will need. I'm very curious to see how you handle it

"Just as well, since this might just be the last time we have to do this."
Oh, Frieda, how wrong you are!

As a further prediction, I wonder: will Helga, Frieda's sister, also have to steal clothes, or will her role in the story remain marginal? I can't wait to find out what happens

[Stormtrooper1990]

Great continuation of the story! My favorite scenes were the one with the nurses and then the one with the Bavarian girls! This was a bit of a first-time story, with the girls trying out, with great effectiveness, duct tape to tie up their victims, and Kasten wearing a traditional Bavarian dress for the first time!

Karsten smiled. “It does, doesn't it? I think I’ll keep it. But if my parents ask, we just snagged these off a clothesline.”

This line made me laugh a lot: as if Karsten's parents wouldn't care much about the clothing theft, as long as she doesn't attack someone for it.
Finally, regarding the pacing of the story, I found it very realistic that Werner didn't escape with them: I mean, the Americans have historically treated German prisoners of war quite well. If he had escaped, they would probably have caught him and punished him severely. I imagine, however, that saving Fritz from the Soviets won't be so easy. I wonder how he'll escape from the Russian prison camp. Perhaps Karsten and Frieda will have to steal a male Russian soldier's uniform to help him escape his captors? Maybe they'll seduce a guard, conveniently disguised as female Soviet soldiers, to steal the clothes Fritz will need. I'm very curious to see how you handle it

"Just as well, since this might just be the last time we have to do this."
Oh, Frieda, how wrong you are!

As a further prediction, I wonder: will Helga, Frieda's sister, also have to steal clothes, or will her role in the story remain marginal? I can't wait to find out what happens

Thanks, Saker I'm glad you liked the scenes with the nurses and Bavarian girls. Having the victims being in the wrong place at the wrong time is one of my favourite tropes in USB.

It's interesting should mention the duct tape (which is such a USB staple). While I was researching the background to the story, I discovered that duct tape itself was invented in 1943 by an American woman, Vester Stoudt who worked in the armaments factories. Originally, she had invented duct tape as a handy way to seal ammunition boxes from the elements. Naturally, the woman had no idea that 80 years later ( or two years later ) that duct tape would be used to bind half naked women who just had their clothes stolen. So that makes Vester a true unsung USB hero.


With Karsten and the dress, it was a reference to how much German culture had been supplanted by the Nazis during the war. And the return of the Bavarian girls representative of things are slowly returning to normal. Indeed, Karsten's parents are very Catholic and while they understand that Karsten would have had to steal clothes at somepoint, they certainly don't approve of mugging innocent women. So it's probably for the best Karsten didn't mention the nuns.


You are right, rescuing Fritz from the clutches of the Russians won't be easy. I don't want to give anything away but I will say this; while Fritz is indeed in the Russian Sector he isn't necessarily in a prisoner of war camp. And the girls will have to get creative in getting him out....

I'm afraid to say that Helga's role in the story is marginal and she won't be getting up to any USB shenanigans. After all somebody has to look after little Greta, until her parents get back.

Suffice it to say, you won't have to wait long for the conclusion of The Undefeated!

[meditions142]

Excellent and fun continuation!

It is interesting how Frieda and Karsten use more physical knockouts. Which of course is more realistic. That is basically what they would do as basically ordinary women who need uniforms.

I particularly liked the scene with Liesel and Elsa. Two good old punches. And loved the descriptions and comment "A swift right hook sent the nurse sprawling onto the road on her front where she lay unconscious. At the same moment, Karsten punched Elsa in the back of her head, eliciting a small squeak of pain from the girl who collapsed forward onto her side, unconscious, next to Liesel. Karsten massaged her fist. "We are getting frighteningly good at this.'"

And love the way they just so callously just roll the unconscious women into the ditch. Great description "Putting her hands under Liesel’s shoulders, Frieda dragged the redhead over to the road ditch, and rolled her over the edge. Karsten did the same with Elsa, the girl coming to rest at Liesel’s side." Great image!

Thanks for the wonderful story continuation!

[Stormtrooper1990]

Excellent and fun continuation!

It is interesting how Frieda and Karsten use more physical knockouts. Which of course is more realistic. That is basically what they would do as basically ordinary women who need uniforms.

I particularly liked the scene with Liesel and Elsa. Two good old punches. And loved the descriptions and comment "A swift right hook sent the nurse sprawling onto the road on her front where she lay unconscious. At the same moment, Karsten punched Elsa in the back of her head, eliciting a small squeak of pain from the girl who collapsed forward onto her side, unconscious, next to Liesel. Karsten massaged her fist. "We are getting frighteningly good at this.'"

And love the way they just so callously just roll the unconscious women into the ditch. Great description "Putting her hands under Liesel’s shoulders, Frieda dragged the redhead over to the road ditch, and rolled her over the edge. Karsten did the same with Elsa, the girl coming to rest at Liesel’s side." Great image!

Thanks for the wonderful story continuation!

Thanks, my friend. I'm glad to here that


Indeed, it's what sets Frieda and Karsten apart from my other characters. They aren't trained agents but ordinary women who need uniforms/clothes to get into the places they shouldn't. And although I've said my preferences are towards more subtle non-lethal methods, it's been a lot of fun writing the duo's more physical knockouts.


Yeah, between the farm girls and the nurses, my personal favourite had to be the scenes with the unfortunate Elsa and Liesel. What I've enjoyed the most, aside from writing the story is the development of the characters, particularly Karsten. You wouldn't think that just the day before she was timid about the idea of mugging other women. But now she and Frieda are USB pro's rolling scantily clad nurses in a ditch without a care in the world. It really does show how much our heroines have adapted into USB. Out of all my disposal scenes this was my favourite!



You're quite welcome, it's always a pleasure my friend!

I'm currently writing Part 3, which sees our intrepid auxiliaries revisit the Soviet Sector for one last time to rescue Karsten's beau, Fritz.