Darren Hanley's Story

7:30 am - Monday 4th May, 2015

The brisk morning air brushed against Darren's cheeks as he jogged around the parade ground. The sun made it's way above the horizon as the crisp British morning came to life. Darren was jogging with the rest of his zuggtrup/platoon a part of the morning drill. He kept pace at the back of the section avoiding any glares from the rest of the students. Even now after 4 years he was still looked down upon by the other student's. A fact of life he had to accept.

As the group of students veered back towards the barracks Darren thought about the day ahead. This semester he had to attend some "civvie" classes due to his "un-patriotic" behavior last year. It was ridiculous. He had was being re-educated in the way of a proper Nazi. He would have to attend classes with students who weren't doing a full military education. He would stand out a mile, as if he didn't already. By the time Darren had snapped out of his thoughts they had been dismissed and he headed back to the barracks.

8:50 am - Monday 4th May, 2015

Darren sat absently on his bed. He was nervous. Damn nervous. Any time he had to go to the main college campus was a heart racing feeling. In Kolonia he was sub-human. Not even a second class citizen inside the walls of this 'Aryan' institute. It was bad enough having the other student pilots bully him but now, going to the main campus? It was almost a death sentence. The palms of his hands were sweaty. His breathing heavy, just thinking about it made him anxious and afraid. 21 years old and he is sitting alone because he feared some snotty nosed little kids. He couldn't touch them. They were above the law here. One snide remark to the wrong person and he was gone. Back to Ireland and live in poverty. If he was lucky.

He couldn't waste time any longer or he would miss the first class of the semester. "Just keep cool. Anything you want to say to someone say it in your head first and then find a nicer answer for them" he said to himself. Fists clenched he stood up from the bed. The Luftwaffe student rules dictated he must attend all classes in full dress uniform. His dress uniform was a tribute to an old age. While his battle dress and flight gear had all advanced with time the Luftwaffe decided to keep the old great war uniforms as dress uniforms. The feldblau tunic comprised the top half of the uniform. The feldblau breeches made up the legwear. The feldblau sidecap was one of the head wear options and the jack boots were traditional dress uniform footwear. However the most prominent part of Darren's uniform was a grey armband with a white 'X'. So everyone knew what he was. It was almost as if they had made it just for him. He'd never seen another student with it on, and yet everyone knew.

The campus was teeming with people for the early morning classes, most were to busy to notice him. Others noticed the uniform and then the armband and kept their distance. almost as if he was a poison. Darren arrived outside the locaion of his first class early. All his timetable said was "History". No doubt another exploration of how great the Nazi's were. Darren left out an audible sigh and waited.

"Gefreiter Darren Hanley."

Alexandra's voice was almost mocking, in a way, though with a hint of surprise in it as she was walking up to the room she was due to sit in and watch over. As Kolonia was a top-tier military university, the SS had the great duty of partially administering it and making sure that everything was running smoothly and that all the teachers were of the highest esteem according to their standards. And who better to enforce these things than the daughter of the Reichsführer? Having completed her military education had freed up her last year at Kolonia for more academic goals and carrying out what her father told her to do. She'd spent much more time administering the local BDM and conveying messages to the staff than she had doing work. Of course, she was still just a student and subject to discipline. Though she was a model student and had a high place in German society. She had everything going for her. So much that there had to be something off or wrong.

Unfortunately for Darren Hanley, he was a Lesser-Born. The simple relation that the woman speaking to him had, as well as her status that was announced by the SS Armband on her right upper arm and her very well-fitted clothing, meant that he had to choose his next words carefully. The SS was not favourable towards Untergeboren.

The thing that may have, thought it shouldn't, surprise people was that she knew his name and she knew him despite most likely having never spoken to him before. Of course she knew him. She knew everyone.

Alexandra ran her eyes up and down his uniform out of habit. The Luftwaffe dress uniform was much more elaborate than her simple BDM Uniform, where the only colour came from the black and grey SS armband and her bright red Swastika armband. Granted, her personal uniform was different where the skirt only reached a bit below her mid-thighs, but that was the same with the rest of the older BDM members. Not that she'd prefer military dress. Even her heels looked more comfortable than the jack boots the men had to wear. Not really, but the idea was there. Nothing was out of place on Darren's uniform, and he earned some credit for that.

"I wasn't aware you were taking... civilian classes."

Vladimir couldn't keep himself from blinking in surprise at the sudden address of his real name. He managed to keep his composure beyond that and survive the rapid fire of words delivered to him in English. However the individual in question was already walking away again after a comment about door hinges. The part that really caught him was the mention of the meeting. The biggest concern was the potential breach of his cover-that alone was enough for him to attend- but the potential for something to help his own objective was also a tempting possibility. That being said the entire affair could also be a trap, he'd have to be very cautious with how he handled this situation. At the very least the only guarantee was his own attendance.

His footsteps lead him deeper into the campus and indirectly further complicated his issue of being lost. However one voice and the pair of uniforms attached stuck out almost like a life line to his recently recognized anxiety.

"I wasn't aware you were taking... civilian classes."

The words stuck out like a sore thumb, feminine and incredibly sure of itself. Further mixed with a bare hint of confusion, definitely addressed to another active soldier. He turned his head towards where he believed the voice came from. Ironically the back of a BDM and a non-Aryan in Luftwaffe dress was a sight he never thought would be so welcome. He inhaled deeply through his nose before making his way towards the pair, doing his best to not betray his own anxiety.

During his approach he paid particularly close attention to the man. Full flight uniform much like himself and the fellow even possessed a firm stance. A slight tightness of the jaw and a hint of movement in his hands suggested the pilot was at least as nervous as himself. However the mention of a class schedule at least indicated he was further along in the paper confirmation process than himself. No sooner than this realization occurred did he realize that he should speak lest the situation begin to degenerate.

"Pardon, but I happen to find myself lost,"he deliberately didn't use German for his address. Firstly, because he had yet to overcome his issue of initiating conversation in the tongue. The second reason was due to the apparent use of English being prominent on campus...at least from what he'd seen so far.

"I was just assigned here und find myself in need of directions to finalize papers bevore class," he deliberately used the German 'and' and mixed the English and German 'before'. It was part of basic training in hiding and forging accents, when using a secondary language deliberately fudge minor details with the desired primary language. When speaking the primary language one is to attempt to sound 'flat' i.e. accent-less as possible. If such was unavoidable either find a distinctive regional accent similar to ones native tongue or tinge minor amounts of quirks from various regions. The latter could just be covered with excuses of extensive travel or contact with said individuals at a young age.

"If it is not zu (read tsu) much trouble of course." He kept his demeanor as polite as possible, after all it wouldn't do to commit any taboo at this point in time. At the very least he was relying more on his rank insignia doing the talking than his actual words for the time being. There was something about the commanding body language of the woman that caused his instincts to flash every warning sign in the book.

"Major Viktor Daemon," he hadn't gotten a full briefing in regards to German military infrastructure so he resisted the urge to salute. The papers in his pocket and his own given story had already proven sufficient reason for a lapse in protocol on his part before. "Recently returned from an unpleasant deployment to the Russian border." Almost immediately after the words had left his mouth Viktor felt himself REALLY wanting to leave. Unfortunately he had started an attempt at conversation at the very least he was stuck until he got directions.

Darren waited quietly outside the classroom. When he was a young boy he used to love history. However the history he had learned wasn't exactly the same as what was taught here at Kolonia. It varied slightly in a few places. There was more national pride in his childhood history, although not of the Nazi kind. He was never able to distinguish the differences as a child between pro an anti-nazi sentiment. After all why would he? The leadership had never done anything to him to think otherwise. However this kind of history? He doubted it would make him feel the same "pride" for the Reich than his childhood history did of being Irish. Maybe he was being to rash. Although in this case, and judging by the kind of people that attended this school at least his prejudice was not unfounded. Either way, he was certain civvie classes would make him feel just fantastic about himself....

"Gefreiter Darren Hanley."

Darren snapped awake and looked in front of him, a woman stood astute glaring at him. At first Darren smirked. "She's a looker" he thought to himself. Her clothes were neat and really hugged her body. As he glanced, trying not to smile he found himself veering to her right, and there it sat. The jet black armband of the SS. What little bit of glee he might of had dissipated faster than a new students dignity. "Oh shit, what have I done" floated in Darren's mind. He found himself unable to comprehend the situation. Was he supposed to salute? How was he supposed to answer? He stood there trying to come up with an answer. "Say something damnit". All this time he had stood rigid and bolt upright with confusion written across his face. A poor impression to begin with.

Instinctively he threw his arm upwards and saluted the woman. "I..uh..yes m'am" he managed to splutter. "The staff decided it would..uh...be wise for me to learn more about the history of our great nation m'am and my place in it". "Oh great" he thought. "Our great nation? You mean their great nation." Darren's throat became dry and he struggled to find more words. He was a terrible liar. And no doubt she already knew about his "un-patriotic" behavior. He swore to himself, she was going to stick to him like a hawk now watching his every move he imagined. Not a delightful thought, even if she was that good looking.

Still standing upright and holding his salute, Darren's tension was only relaxed when a well built man stepped up to speak. Presumably to her, at least he hoped.

Alexandra was about to address Hanley's rather messy introduction when a tall man, blonde and very well built, spoke to her. He introduced himself as a Major, and her eyes immediately darted to the SS symbol stitched into his uniform lapel. He was Waffen-SS, and so she pondered whether she had ever heard of him before. He was incredibly young to be a Major, of all things, meaning that he'd had to have been promoted for something worthy of the Iron Cross. Nonetheless she answered his question.

"Die Verwaltung ist in einem Gebäude direkt neben dem großen Saal. Es steht ein Schild, wo draufsteht: 'Verwaltung'. Sie können es nicht verfehlen (The Administration office is in the main building. The door has a sign on it that says 'Administration'. You can't miss it),"

Her quick German came rushing out while she motioned towards where the offices were. As a Major in the Waffen SS, he couldn't have not spoken German. No fears were present with this man, even if he was SS. He may have been a Major, but in the hierarchy of the SS she outranked nearly everyone by relation. She then looked him over one more time, before deciding what to ask for in order to help him along.

"Darf ich Ihre Dokumente einsehen (May I see your papers)?" She asked, her left hand extending out. As he looked at her with a confused and rather nervous expression she merely muttered, "Your Papers...", before gently pulling them out of his pocket. As she shuffled through them she spoke to him without raising her eyes, "You're a strange one. Only 21 and already a Major? I think I would have heard the name Viktor Daemon before."

As she handed back her papers, she said the last part with a dismissive tone. "Everything's fine. If you need anything, Major, come find me. Just ask around for the name Himmler, someone should point you the right way."

And with that she turned back to Hanley. She smirked at him and his expression. He was Untergeboren, sure, but he was still Luftwaffe. It meant he had to have done something right. The way he looked at her and especially her armband, however, told her he was scared absolutely shitless. She simply chuckled and began walking towards the door. He clearly didn't have a watch on him. It was 8:59 am. Before she opened the door she stepped up almost intimately close to Hanley. Leaning in, she whispered in his ear with a sultry, velvety, and overtly lethal voice, "Class begins in one minute, Gefreiter. Don't want to be late."

And with that she put on an amused smirk and stepped away towards the door, opening it and walking in herself.

It took a bit of effort to keep from screwing his face up as he processed the rapid answer in German. At the very least he could take it that SOMETHING from basic actually came in handy and seemed to work. The woman's confidence obviously meant that in some since she severely outranked himself...something he made a note to give his utmost attention. Her askance for his papers caught him off guard, the result being she grabbed them before he could.

"Die Beförderung geschah vor drei Wochen. (the promotion happened three weeks ago (ooc: pretty sure I said that wrong.))," Viktor responded to the matter of title. However the dismissive tone regarding his position somewhat irritated him. He gladly took his papers off and would have departed immediately but she had something else to say. "Vielen Dank" The offer was something he genuinely appreciated but it wasn't something he had time to dwell on. All in all he honestly felt more like his departure was a retreat than actually going to finish his enrollment procedure.

One bright side from his conversation with the... he oddly found the title 'princess' apt was he knew where to look. Better yet he knew what sign to look for resulting in him finishing admissions rather smoothly. His first class was history...something he was now a couple minutes late for at this point in time. His haste had resulted in him failing to mark precisely where he had come from. Which left him to examine his surroundings and then proceed with his best guest. Granted the knowledge of signs and where to look for them should facilitate his efforts. If nothing else, odds were high non-Aryan staff would about and he could ask them for directions. He felt a smirk beginning to form on his face at the thought, hopefully any help he enlisted would have to same since of humor.

Andrius Kaliv strode down the corridor with an almost military dilligence, which stood starkly at odds with his almost stereotype-exact history teacher appearance; tweed suit with leather elbows, thin rimmed glasses and brown leather shoes. He did not slow down as the door to his classroom approached and he saw that a dozen or so students were already gathered outside. He stopped abruptly and greeted them with a nod of his head.

"Well done for being so punctual." he said, pulling the key from his pocket and unlocking the door, pushing it open and stepping aside, gesturing for the students to start entering. He eyed them as they passed, nodding at each other them in turn.

As Alexandra passed by in her BDM uniform, Andrius even managed a smile. "Freulein Himmler-Schellenberg." he said cordially, his eyes following her some way into the room, before returning to centre, where they fell upon an unfamiliar young man. (Viktor)

"I've not seen you before." Andrius said in a sharp, blunt manner which would certainly instigate the young man to stop. "New to Kolonia, or just to this class?"

The military drills were tough, but Klaus found them satisfying. His muscles ached pleasantly and he could still feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He had changed out of his training clothes and into a slightly more formal uniform, an iron cross beneath his neck and a bronze eagle over his front pocket. At his name, he looked up. He smiled slightly. He looked familiar.

"Klaus?" he began, "Hey...hey it's Luke. Luke from Delahei campus. Are you on your way to class mate? It's Kalvis first thing isn't it?"

"Guten Tag, Luke. How is, er, fashion design?" he asked the other student as he made his way to history class. Truthfully, it escaped him why anyone would be interested in designing different outfits as a career. Personally, he didn't see much point. He preferred simple, practical clothes himself, though, at times, he could appreciate the different fashions the opposite sex tried out.

He made small talk with Luke until he sat down near the front of the class, next to Alexandra Himmler-Schellenburg. He knew the woman, but he wasn't close to her. He stared at the teacher Truthfully, he felt Mr. Kelvis was ridiculous. The man seemed to try so hard to emulate the old Führer that he forgot to be himself. Klaus admired his great-grandfather, of course, but he still considered himself his own person, even if his great-grandfather's thoughts led him to question a few things...

"Kolonia Professor," Viktor ceased walking at the call out from the professor of the class he would be attending at this time,pure habit brought him to military 'at ease'. If he had to guess, the call out was probably due to his own tardiness. Regardless of the situation, he knew that the man was effectively his CO during this time period. Despite that, he refused to salute, class was one thing, combat was an entirely different thing. "Sorry for the tardiness, Administration needed to finalize some things." The weak excuse was offered merely to cut off an immediate outburst.

If anything, he's just going to throw a fit and try to embarrass me so no one even thinks about being late again. Viktor internally shrugged at the notion, essentially it was the same nonsense every rookie put up with during day one basic. Due to a lack of orders, he kept standing in place while awaiting further address. In a way, he expected to spent the entirety of class standing in this manner because it's what he'd do to a recruit. With that very thought in mind surveyed the classroom and those inside. The first set he noticed were the princess-Himmel something- and the Luftwaffen pilot from earlier. Next to catch his eye was some pretty boy that seemed oddly conscious of certain occupants of the room...presumably due to social status matters. There was also a young man, roughly his height and vaguely similar to those of the acclaimed Desert Fox. If nothing else, the mans bore the face of one often awake for extended periods...a thinker perhaps? Beyond that he noted characters similar to those of any real social hierarchy and for the most part none of them truly stood out, a fact he found rather disappointing.

Finishing up the classroom line up was of course the professor-Hitler 2- complete with same stupid haircut and mustache. The man strut around like a peacock, clearly a man proud of himself. However there was something in his attitude that clearly separated his pride from the blonde girl. Clearly there was some deeper issue or obsession that drove him, either way 'Vladimir' could only infer that 'Viktor' was confronting a fanatic.

Nothing that the young man had said had left Oren any less skeptical of this transfer, but from his mere expression she could tell that there was nothing she could tell him that would make him believe it was anything other than an amazing act of fortune.
"Well, take care of yourself Hugh, hope it works out and maybe I'll see you again. Send me a christmas card or something, chances are I'll still be right here." she stated resignedly, before watching him go.

Little point in arguing.

And maybe she was just a cynic. Maybe he was genuinely getting an easier post. Maybe she was jealous and trying to mask it. She was, after all, clever. Kovalenko had always gotten top grading in the studies she was permitted but as she had been told by a gibbon with greater experience...nazis didn't like clever monkies. They wanted people who were easy to manipulate and intelligence was seen as dangerous. As suchh her desperation to appear smart had sabotaged her.

Leaving her reverie, Ore looked over at the clock and cursed. Class had commenced and she still had to finish her round to one other...

...and of course that one was Kalvis. It hadn't been a great plan leaving him until last. While all the tutors were a bunch of serious nazis for the most part, some were less exhibitionistic about that. Kalvis was not one of the subtle folks and it made dealing with him distinctly unpleasant, if not outwardly acrimonious.

The class period itself varied for Oren. Often she was asked to assist with a class, handing out books, cleaning boards, washing petri dishes, copying text to notes, setting up projectors...anything that required little qualification that made an instructor feel big. If that wasn't asked of her she had time to go and get some food for herself, but it did not often work out that way. While she was not timetabled it wasn't impossible that some task would be sprung on her..

Oren approached the history class, seeing the door unlocked. She stepped in, seeing the class already seated for the most part, which wasn't ideal. As she walked up the isle carrying the cups and glasses she took note of a few people she knew of. Oren knew about most students, even if she held sincere doubts that any actually knew her name.

There was Atkinson, the fashion designer, the Himmler girl - when Oren saw her she mostly wanted to staple things to her head...most of the students were entitled enough without adding a rich and influential daddy to it, and Hanley.

Perhaps she should have felt more positive toward the low-born that had broken the mold and gotten a place at Kolonia. She should be happy. Of course she wasn't happy. She resented the fact that one of them had an opportunity she would gnaw one of her appendages off to get and didn't stand a chance regarding, lacking any influential people to plead favours off.

There was someone else, a male student she guessed to be knew, but did not give it a second thought, padding down to the desk at the front to set down the coffee and a glass of water.

"Apologies Herr Kalvis, my kitchen shift ended late and I was held up." she stated, addressing the man as inwardly she imagined ripping the ridiculous facial hair off his upper lip with parcel tape. Well, that kind of thing helped her through the day.

Alexandra turned her head to watch the dark-haired Slavic girl walking in. As with everyone, she knew who the girl was. Not personally, naturally, but by name and face. When Oren's eyes flashed over her face Alexandra watched a familiar glint of hatred in her eyes. All Alex responded with was a smirk of acknowledgement. She knew what Oren was thinking, and the young woman found herself amused by the fact that she too would appreciate ripping the mustache right out of Klavis's face. A thought that often entertained many of the people who knew the man.

It gave Alexandra great pleasure to know that she could knock down Klavis at her whim for she knew that he would dare not strike back. After all, she did report back to her father on how the instructors were doing in the school. Not that she would sink that low to let personal quarrels with any of them affect their reports.

Once more she let her thoughts stray to the Kovalenko girl. Unlike most other members of the Nazi Elite, Alexandra found a certain sort of respect for the Soviets. The Slavs, the Russians. Even when scores of them had been cut down, those right behind them continued to charge on to fight. No matter how many the Germans killed, two more would replace every one lost in battle. It was a morbid yet fascinating display of expendable human resources that the Third Reich could only dream of having.

And as she looked over Oren, she could see the strength those people had in the dark-haired girl. Whereas most of the Aryan Elite of the Reich would have looked at Kovalenko and seen only a dirty, scarred Slav, Alexandra saw someone with fight and strength. A waste. Not a waste for someone like Oren to have such traits, but for someone with those traits like Oren to be merely used for medial and mindless work. This was the way things were, certainly, but if given a chance Alexandra had no doubt that someone like Oren could be turned into a valuable member of the Reich. The lord knew that the Wehrmacht could do with more of those people.

She pondered briefly in Darren Hanley could fill such a role. He was already growing into the Luftwaffe. But he didn't seem fit to become a fighter pilot. He was too... finicky. Too nervous. Both eager to try and make those above him approve of him but yet too afraid of screwing up to try. He was impressionable. All things that made her think that she had the perfect job for him, no matter how taboo it may have been.

So many thoughts and she wasn't half through.

Her eyes shot down to Klaus Rommel. He held a special place on her scoreboard. He knew what she thought of him. The Great-Grandson of a traitor. The Great-Grandson of a man who had tried to end the beginning of the great Empire they had today. She didn't like him much. She could see his great-grandfather inside of him.

"Very good." Andrius nodded at Viktor as he apologised. "Well I don't believe in excuses or inductions, so just take a seat and we shall proceed."

Before stepping into the classroom, Andrius gave the young man one last suspicious glance. There was something slightly distinctive about him. He looked eastern European, yet his accent was markedly German. Almost perfect German, no real regional lilt to it at all. Yet his decorations spoke volumes, so Andrius was inclined to withold judgement upon him until he knew a little more about him. No point unwittingly dressing down an important student.

He made his way to the front of class and hit a button next to the whiteboard to beging the recorder which would replicate his board marking digitally for students to review later. Turning to face the class, he raised his right and greeted them with a crisp, "Heil Freumann".

At that moment one of the lesserborn serfs entered the room with his desk victuals. His face dropped into a contemptful frown, which deepened as the grl gave her explanation.

"Two things about that piece of information you've given me Freulein." he said sternly, "Firstly, it is exactly what you would tell me if you were merely lazy and slow. Secondly, it is a matter of supreme indifference to me why you are late or what the affairs are in the kitchen. Now please provide everyone in the room with a copy of C. Kholler from the bookshelf and waste no more of our time."

He turned his gaze away from Oren dismissively and stood behind his desk, dead centre to the class and began to address them.

"I trust you have all checked your bulletins this morning and are aware that this is the 70th celebration of Unity Week. For this reason we are going to put the Roman Empire on hold, and review the events which this week is in place to honour and commemorate. Now..."

He turned to the whiteboard and began to write.

"You've all studied this so I expect quick answers, just call it out if you know. What was the year in which the allies surrendered?"

There was hardly a delay in the reply, as every student in the room said "1945".

"Seventy years ago today." Andrius affirmed. "And when did the countries of Europe accept unity under the Nazi empire."

This time the answere was more mumbled and varied.

"A week later, with the hanging of the war criminal Winston Churchill. OK, a more difficult one now, let's think about some of the heroes we celebrate this week. Who was the commander of the Army Group Vistula famously decorated on Hitler's birthday only two weeks before the Nazi victory...?"

The cold, harsh tone of the SS woman’s parting sentence made Darren wince. He’d let her get to him. She got his weak side and sunk her claws into it. He wouldn’t be able to shake her off him now. She saw how uncomfortable the whole conversation made him. Even if it was brief. The SS had power, a hell of a lot of it. She could do whatever she liked with him and Darren would have to follow orders. If he didn’t? Well, he shuddered at what might become of him. The SS want’s you gone and no one asks questions, why would they? Shaking his head he walked into the classroom behind everyone else.

Darren spied a lone desk near the back of the class. He made a beeline for it and snapped it up before anyone else could. He would rather not draw any more attention to himself. He’d hate to ruin all the fun for the pure Nazis on his first day back. Slumping into the chair he relaxed himself. If he had to listen to Hitler junior babble on for a while he should at least be comfortable.

Darren’s mind was drawn to an email he had received earlier from his superior officer, General der Flieger Schafer. Schafer seemed to be the only person in Kolonia that didn't care if Darren was an lower born or not. He only cared about flying skills. He wanted the best regardless of background, and Darren was damn good. Schafer had sent Darren an email informing him that he shall be taking part in a flyover of the college campus for the Unity Day celebrations.

Darren was of course honored at the prospect. He was scheduled to perform a squad flyover in formation and a few minutes solo trickery. Or showing off as General Schafer had worded it. Daren was excited to get back in the cockpit. The last 2 months had been spent learning the theory of aerial combat. Now he could put it all to use.

Waking from his daydream he realised a dark haired girl walk in. She was lower born too. She must have been, who else would do the dirty work for the ‘pures’. He enjoyed the thought that he wasn't alone in here. There were no other lesser born in the Luftwaffe campus. Everyone there was a student of something. Whether it be engineering or aerodynamics they were all students.

As he zoned back into the actual class itself he heard the lecturer parroting away dates and names. All very exciting stuff. Eventually Darren came to rest his eyes on the back of the SS womans head. He should at least find out her name. Better to know the name of thine enemy right? And even though she made him feel uncomfortable, he found her very intriguing.

Klaus only listened half-heartedly to Luke. He watched him glance at Alexandra in fear, but he showed no emotion other than a friendly smile of greeting to her. Beneath the surface, however, he was putting together a puzzle which he only now had the pieces to solve. The girl had always seemed to hate him. He had had no idea why for a long time, but after finding his great grandfather's diary, he now understood. She suspected him as a potential traitor, which was natural, considering her job. He had heard rumors of the SS and their secrets. His Great Grandfather alluded to a "Final Solution" to the "Jewish Problem" in his journal entries. He suspected something dire, something that would be hidden by SS secrecy. He wondered how much she knew.

He watched the servant enter the room. She was Slavic by the looks of her. Her name was Oren Kovalenko if he recalled correctly. He had detected the looks of hatred she gave him and the others and it made him slightly uncomfortable, though he understood it. At the professor's question, he could not help but smile slightly. He raised his hand and proceeded to answer dutifully.

"Sir. Army Group Vistula was first proposed by General Heinz Guderian. The new Army Group Vistula was duly formed from an assortment of rebuilt, new and existing units. Guderian intended to propose Field-Marshal Maximilian von Weichs as commander. However, the Führer appointed Heinrich Himmler. Himmler, an administrator and organizer who lacked any real military knowledge, proved inadequate to the task; General Gotthard Heinrici replaced Himmler as commander of Army Group Vistula on 20 March, subsequent to its participation in the German offensive codenamed Operation Solstice. Command shifted from Heinrici to Kurt von Tippelskirch as acting commander for Kurt Student who would later take commander of the Army Group near the end of the war.

However, Kurt von Tippelskirch was awarded and decorated, not Kurt Student, for his successful leadership. So, while it would be correct to say Kurt Student was in command when the army group was decorated, its success was mostly due to Kurt von Tippelskirch according to historical records. The previous two commanders failed: Heinrici for retreating in batte against the Führer's orders, and Himmler thanks to his military inexperience. After the end of the war, the Wehrmacht retained its autonomy within the Reich."

He paused for a moment and asked, almost to himself.

"Was the Führer mistaken and misused Heinrich Himmler, who was proven to be quite skilled as the leader of the SS and known for good organisational skills and for selecting highly competent subordinates, but not military leadership? Or did the Führer see something in Himmler which he failed to live up to? I confess that I have a hard time figuring it out. What is your opinion, Professor? Could the Führer ever be mistaken or could the Reichsführer have failed?"

Katherina, often called Kate by the native English-speakers at the school or Katrin by the German majority, rushed quickly into class. By her rather disheveled appearance and the fact that her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, it was obvious she had just come from early morning flight practice.

Her uniform was a cross between Alexandra's and Darren's. Like Alexandra's, it was fitted and had the two components of the shorter pencil skirt, white blouse, and black heels. On her upper right arm was the customary red swastika armband and on her head was a sidecap. Fortunately the fabric that all parts of the dress uniform were made out of were much lighter and breathable material than the older wool used.

She took her seat quickly, refusing to make eye contact with Kalvis for fear of bursting out in laughter. Oddly enough, he'd probably be the only on not laughing. The Black Eagle looked up at the teacher, shrugging as an excuse. Most of her instructors knew that she would often be at least a few minutes late when she had their class first. She gave a quick nod to Darren at the back of the classroom and a smirk to Alexandra. The two came from influential and high families in the Reich.

She spared a glance and Klaus and Luke. Neither she particularly cared for. Klaus because he was just... strange, and Luke just wasn't her taste.

Viktor managed to keep his face impassive for Professor Kalvis's answer in regards to his tardiness. He kept this stone visage as he searched for a seat relatively out of the way yet not interfere with what learning should be talking place in class. On the inside however, Vladimir felt his heart pumping like crazy. Had he made a mistake in his judgement call, and if so what other mistakes had he made due to his assumptions on the basic precepts of Nazi society? The worries were swiftly put to rest when a woman quite similar to those back home stepped in. Unsurprisingly her own excuse was promptly dismissed in a fashion he found rather insulting then ordered to fetch books for her fellow students.

A slight tensing in his own jaw was all he could allow as expression at this difference in treatment. But for the sake of his cover, he had to let this one slide. This did little to change the fact that he was rather close to a set of the books himself. To that end he merely grabbed the nearby pile before venturing towards a seat rather close to the back. As 'Viktor' he justified the action as accelerating the process of the learning environment. After all the SS were known for their loyalty to ruler and nation, what better way to express this-right now- than attempting to optimize the time spent in class? To further that end, he passed down portions of the pile he'd grabbed on the trip to his own seat before sitting himself down.

Kalvis wasted no time in asking a question he couldn't answer. Such matters hadn't been deemed worth covering at any point in his rather focused education. Luckily, the brainy looking student from before stepped in and provided an answer. This ultimately meant he wouldn't have to be called on to answer. One thing he didn't expect though was the kids question at the end...was he seriously questioning Nazi leadership foundation? If he had to guess based off the reaction of some of his fellow students, this was a sensitive topic. In regards to it, he knew as an SS he could endorse neither Hitler nor Himmler being at fault even though he knew Hitler was not Aryan and thus should be the more likely candidate in the 'genetic sense'.

Viktor felt himself standing, and he couldn't keep himself from shaking. From here on out he was flying blind and scared, even though he kept his face neutral. "If I may," Viktor kept his voiced crisp and short. Something of an attempt to disguise nerves while utilizing the occasional quiver in his voice.

"In regards to the Führer und the Reichsführer," at this point the uncertainty in his voice gave way to an iron hard tone. In a way those two were 'the enemy' more than anyone else. After all his years fighting hatred could only be the expected reaction towards their names. 'Vladimir' was forced to gulp down his feelings, 'Viktor' even swallowed to mirror that statement.

"Attempting to say one or the other was insufficient or wrong is clearly not the instance. After all even if a leader is completely optimal, the past seventy years being the herald of that genius. A sub-par subordinate could make a mistake and said mistake is then blamed upon the leader since the incompetence of a lesser resulted in the leader responding perfectly to the wrong circumstance. Furthermore regardless of the excellence of an order, a subordinate can easily make a mistake in execution...something a civilian would also mistake as the fault of the leader. Also one needs to account for the fact being underestimated is the greatest asset in war, and given the excellence of our Intelligence Division the whole matter could have been a facade."

At this point Viktor forced himself into his seat again, jaw locked closed. In all honesty having to defend people like Hitler and Himmler went against everything he was taught. But from a military standpoint, he knew first hand that his points would be valid to those from an outside perspective. Despite his own opinion: Hitler was incompetent at best in matters military and Himmler while talented was too ambitious and self-absorbed for his own good.

"You are correct, both of you, Professor and... Viktor. I apologize for any disrespect that might be found within my question. I have a love for paradoxes. I find them stimulating," Klaus spoke, the very model of the obedient student. Inwardly, he was a little disappointed that that Alexandria didn't rise to his bait and more than a little annoyed that Himmler was given credit for the victory of Army Group Vistula. The fool had spent most of the time in his fancy train, unable to coordinate the war. It was only thanks to political favoritism and revisionism that he was given credit for the victory.

Privately, he also felt that opening up a second front in Russia was a bad idea, a repeat of the First World War. It was only luck which hindered Russia from invading from the East while at the same time, England and America invaded from the West and South. He glanced at Viktor with interest. He wondered who he was.

Darren sat at the back of the classroom trying hid best to stay awake. None of this really interested him. He didn't want to know about the past. The past had been decided. Anything he learned here would do him no good. At least that was the attitude he was taking. Darren felt he was wasting his time here, he could be out on the tarmac, breathing in the air stained with the smell of burning jet fuel. Not sitting in a classroom learning history from this Hitler wannabee.

Darren sometimes got the feeling that his instructors didn't want him to pass. He needed to complete a certain number of hours just to qualify for the next term. With his current schedule filled with civilian classes he was going to struggle to find enough time to get one or two flights a week at this rate. It all felt rather unfair, but what else had Darren ever known other than the feeling of being treated less than the rest.

Darren shook his head and looked around the classroom again. He noticed that Katherina had entered the room. He gave her a short nod back and an awkward smile. She was one of the best pilots in the school, if not the best. She always seemed to get one up on everyone, but this year Darren was going to try give her a run for her money. He needed to pull out everything he knew to compete with her. He knew he could do it, even if very few others did.

Alexandra found herself with a small smile on her face. To others, it would have appeared as though she were happy with the memory of her grandfather's achievements. To Klaus, however, it might have seemed much more triumphant rather than happy. In their country, she was more powerful. She was the granddaughter of Heinrich Himmler, daughter of the leader of the SS and one of the few most powerful men in the entire Reich. He couldn't even begin to think of touching her.

"Danke, Professor. I've often been told that he would be proud of me," She said, her expression and voice completely flawless in their message. She adjusted herself in her seat and flashed Klaus a challenging look.

Klaus smiled politely at Alexandra. While she may have known the truth about his great grandfather, or at least, what he was blamed for, he knew for a fact that Himmler was a glorified bureaucrat whose only contribution to history was ensuring the State ran smoothly without internal dissent along with his role in making the Final Solution a reality, a waste in military resources in his opinion.

"She takes after him, Professor," he stated diplomatically. At face value, it was a compliment, but truthfully, he had a role opinion of Himmler and the SS as a whole. They had no business interfering with the Wermacht. It was their blunders and interference that allowed Russia to remain a threat to the Reich.