Upfall

Roskovsky supplied Shapira with three types of explosive especially for the Belzec mission: a simple satchel charge he created from explosives taken from the Sobibor land mines; grenade bundles in which four stick grenades were taped together and could be detonated with the pull of a single detonating cord; and Molotov cocktails which he created from petrol and motor oil, mixed with tar. Each man in the assault unit would carry a satchel charge or a grenade bundle plus a Molotov.

Shapira found a site map of Belzec from one of Feldhandler's books. His plan was to focus the assault on the extermination subcamp, which like at the other camps, was somewhat isolated.. The assault force would have to penetrate the sub-camp either by infiltration or attack. Hopefully, Sandler and his men would be on days after meeting. Nor was she shy about that, giving her body to him with abandon, and willing to pleasure him with the skill modern men expected from the most jaded contemporary women. Rather, it was an ineffable feeling that Norit did not do what she did for herself, or because she believed it was what a coarse culture expected of her, but because it created a mutual and willing covenant between them, that extended beyond words like love or passion. And so though Norit said little to him in tiny room they now shared, She pressed her hold on him anyway. They kissed for a long time, like kids. He caressed her neck and shoulders as she shed her clothes. He found himself wildly impassioned as usual, as he had been for the past weeks, as he let his shaggy brown hair brush down her belly. Stopping there, he dropped his head, and kissed the point where her thigh met her pubis, restraining himself from diving in completely. He lingered at this sexiest part of a woman. This was something Norit had not known before Shapira. Whatever pleasure she had, she considered a gift anyway, and though she anticipated it would soon be lost, she gave herself to the moment. She thrust her pelvis toward him, rocking her hips in pleasure before cutting him short before her climax and making him enter her, so they finished together. They still did not speak when they were done, but lay together until making love again, finishing just before Hannah returned to the apartment. Dressing quickly and without embarrassment they greeted her warmly and walked out into the chill ghostly dark of the blacked—out town. Shapira could hardly see Norit's face in moonless night which made it easier for him to say goodbye. "I don't much believe in fate" he said awkwardly and inadequately "but that's where we have to leave things now."

"You're being selfish" she whispered sharply.

"Yes" said Shapira. "Here, take this." He handed Norit his IPod. "I'll show you how to use it. If something happens, it's a token to remember me by." He gently placed the headphones in her ears and selected a song that a central European girl in 1942 would not find too odd or offensive — "Here Comes the Sun" by the Beatles. She smiled in amazement as the little device poured the melody into her head. He kissed her one last time and then hurredly disappeared into the ebony shadows, anxious to get to his men and be on his way to whatever providence had in store for him.

Chapter 35

Kumm had spent most of June shuttling between Lubin and Lueneburg Heath, overseeing the transfer of Der Fuehrer to eastern Poland. News of the move was greeted cynically by the unit's veterans, especially since the divisional command announced that the the other two regiments of Das Reich would be going to France to complete their training cycle. But there really were not many veterans left. Between the men who had returned from Russia with Kumm, and several hundred others who returned from convalescences, there were fewer than 500 veterans out of a regimental strength of nearly 3500. The others were all either barely trained teenaged recruits or slightly older officers fresh out of the notoriously harsh SS Junkerschulen. Morale among the new men was extremely high, but combat skills were not. And while the rest of the division would have months to train in the French countryside, Kumm’s largely inexperienced regiment would be thrown into combat before it was fully prepared. At least, thought Kumm, it would be against partisans, and not real soldiers.

Such action was considered a good way to blood green units anyway. As for the ghostly British commandos—he hoped that they were mostly figments of Globocnik's imagination. A single rifle cartridge and a submachinegun was not much evidence for phantom Spartans.