Maria, Pull the Trigger and Kill (a World War II adventure)

Schloss Köpenick

Thursday Morning the Jeep was still there. It was a big relieve for me, because without our own car it would have been so much harder to get around. When we reached the office General Clay was already inspecting the deco in the entrance hall and he made me aware, that we also needed flags. How the hell, should I get 4 flags now? We did have a brand new US flag, but French, British and Russian --- where should they come from?

Amanda had a busy day in front of her. The last tasks OMGUS had to contribute to the Potsdam Conference had to get finished today and dispatched to Potsdam by military currier before 4:00pm, 1600 alpha. It meant, that I had to get behind the steering wheel myself again. To say the least, the Jeep was not made for short women. The only seat adjustment was backwards/forwards and by the time, I could reach the pedals with my feet, the big steering wheel was pushing into my belly, right under my breasts. So the seating position was everything else than comfortable. Every time I wanted to leave the vehicle, I had to move the seat backwards and then readjust it after I got back in. Operating the pedals, gear shifter and steering required significant force and increased the inconvenience of my seating position. My injured left leg made matters worse on top. After only a few hundred yards, I already longed for my BMW. The Jeep had been made simple and sturdy for military use, while the BMW was fun to drive. I had to get it back, I just had no idea how.

First I drove to the barracks of the Desert Rats in Heerstraße. There I asked for the Lieutenant Colonel. Problem was, I just knew his first name, which made my asking for him embarrassing. What made matters worse, was that everybody knew me, the Kilt-cracker. Eventually, I found him tough, explained my problem with the flags and about 45 minutes later I had a borrowed British flag in hands. Afterwards I drove to the French Army in Heiligensee. Here it took 1,5h until I had a flag and lastly I drove to the Hermann Göring Kaserne. This time, the guard simply waved me through. I had the feeling, the whole Red Army knew me. Argh, the whole Red Army and the whole British Army in Berlin knew me. Was that a good thing or a bad thing, I asked myself?

I looked for Fedorov, but this time around, he was not in the non-commissioned officer's mess. After a lot of gesturing and writing and drawing things on paper to people in the NCO-mess, I figured out that they had target training today and I had to drive to the shooting range. A bit of driving around was required, until I arrived there. Both Fedorov and Gorbatow where there. I talked to Fedorov first. He wanted to know where I had been and I used my injured leg as an excuse, which had prevented me from driving. It was not even a lie. Fedorov led me to General Gorbatow where he explained the upcoming constitutional session of the Allied Control Council and that General Clay wanted him to become the representative of Marshal Chukov. After I had explained everything in lengths, it came to requesting a flag. Fedorov had translated the whole entire time and now he suddenly asked me if I could shot. Obviously, I could. Now, Gorbatow called for a shooting competition. At first, I was reluctant, but as I had no other chance, I wanted to add spice to it, retrieved a bottle of Clay's Whisky and presented it as the price for the winner. Yeah, a bottle of Jack Daniels was something every one of them wanted to have. There were more than a hundred officers and non-commissioned officers, each shooting 5 rounds with the Mosin-Nagant riffle, the standard riffle of the Red Army during WWII. Surprisingly, a Russian woman made first place and won the Jack Daniels. Second and third place were taken by a starschina and a starschi serschant (master sergeant and sergeant first class) and I ended up in fourth place. Not so bad, considering, I had shot the Mosin-Nagant for the first time. On the other hand, I have to admit, that the ones who had made first, second and third place were excellent. They were as good as snipers.

After the tournament Fedorov organized a Russian flag for me. When he handed me the flag, he asked: "What do you do now?"

I just shrugged my shoulders.