Hammelberg, Germany. December, 4th. 1944. Waffen S.S. Major Herman Bower sprinted down the dark street as two explosions went off behind him. The sound of the blasts briefly drowning out the loud wailing of the air raid siren. He was heading for a black sedan that was already damaged by a previous explosion. It’s entire front end was a twisted mass of metal. When Herman reached the sedan he crouched down at it’s side and cowered closer to the ground when an explosion went off in the middle of the street just twenty feet from his position. Debris hurled into the air from the explosion showered down over his black uniform. Is spite of the cold night air he was sweating out of a fear for his life. He lifted his black officer’s cap and wiped the beading moisture from his brow. Then brushed his fingers through his short blond hair. In the distance he saw several other persons running to the left and right to clear the street and find cover.
Herman could not believe that he was out here risking his life tonight. Running through the streets in the middle of an air raid. He knew that there was a good chance that al allied plane could drop a bomb on top of his head at any moment. But it was desperation that was driving Herman to come here. At first he was being driven here in his staff car. Then the air raid sirens went off and he ordered his driver to stop the car so that they could get out and find cover. Herman was determined to reach his destination. he left his driver hiding near a truck half a block away. Just across the street Herman could see his destination. A ladies dress shop. There were two female mannequins displayed in it’s large windows. The one at the left was wearing a black dress with red flower designs. The one at the right was wearing a blue dress. In between the two windows was a black door. Herman was close to the shop. All he had to do was run across the street and reach it without being blown to bits by al allied bomb.
Herman heard the sound of an explosion going off at his left. He turned to see that a building several yards away, at the left side of the street, was demolished by a bomb. This chaotic sight prodded Herman to make a mad dash for the shop. He bolted forward. Seconds after he left his refuge near the sedan he heard two loud explosions going off behind him. Herman had no desire to look back and see how close the bombs were landing. His mind was locked on the shop’s black door. He kept running until he reached his goal. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open. He dove inside the shop and landed on the floor. He swallowed huge gulps of air as he looked up at his new surroundings. The interior of the shop was dark. The only area of dim light was close to the door and windows where he was laying. Then the door closed. Herman heard the sound of two more exploding bombs going off outside. Then in front of him he heard footsteps in the darkness.
“Who’s there?” Herman shouted.
Out of the darkness came a figure dressed in black pants tucked into black knee high boots. He was wearing a black shirt and necktie. He was also wearing a long black cape with a hood that shrouded his face. Herman shuddered at the sight of this dark figure. But in spite of his apprehension this was the person that he was desperate to meet here tonight. The mysterious Sandman.
The Sandman placed his gloved hands on his hips. “You’re late. What kept you?”
Herman could not believe that the Sandman had asked such a question. He stood to his feet. “What do you mean what kept me? Can’t you hear? There’s a bombing raid going on outside.”
“Oh that. Don’t worry about it. It’s almost over,” the Sandman assured Herman. “Just chill out.”
“Chill out?” Herman asked. “What does the weather have to do with this?”
“Sorry. That’s from a different time. I forgot that you’re dated.”
Herman was now more confused. “I’m dated?”
“Let’s skip the vocabulary session for now and get down to business. I’ve got a busy night. So you’re S.S Major Herman Bower. A highly decorated military officer, as well as a doctor. And you’re also in charge of a small concentration camp a few miles from Hammelberg. Camp 368. Your home away from home. And it’s at that camp where the prisoners have given you the nickname Bower the Beast. Am I right?”
Herman became angered at the mention of that name. “That’s mere slander from the mouths of misguided wretches. And an offense punishable by death.”
“Death on the spot. I can’t argue against that,” replied the Sandman. “But you have to admit that it’s a name well earned. After all. How many prisoners have you systematically put to death this month alone?”
Herman began to grow uneasy after hearing that charge. The Sandman crossed his arms against his chest and continued.
“And let’s not forget about your knowledge as a doctor. That’s enabled you to perform numerous medical experiments on prisoners. Your experiments don’t exactly end in cheerful results for your test subjects.”
Herman’s impatience with the Sandman’s charges was growing. “Look. I didn’t come here to listen to you recite my background to me. I came here because I understand that you can help me out of this bind that I’m in.”
“Oh yeah. That,” the Sandman said. “You want to elaborate on that?”
“Elaborate?” Herman shrieked. “I don’t have to elaborate. Just listen to what’s going on outside. Allied planes penetrating deep into the heart of Germany and dropping bombs on our heads. The long list of losses on the battlefields. We’ve retreated from every country that we’ve occupied.”
“Yeah You Germans are getting your asses kicked back across Europe.”
“An eloquent way to put it,” Was Herman’s bitter response. “But you are correct. Germany is losing the war. But my short sighted superiors refuse to see it that way. They insist that we can develop some kind of fantastic wonder weapons to turn things around. So they took officers like me, with medical and scientific backgrounds, and formed a special weapons development program. My immediate superior, General Kollar, is expecting me to pull a miracle out of my ass and save Germany from ruin.
The Sandman nodded. “And so I take it that you made promises that you can’t deliver. Have you thought about leaving the army and going into politics?”
Herman ignored the Sandman‘s snide comment. “Kollar wants me to somehow create a superman or something. He expects me to use my medical knowledge to make stronger soldiers. I say that it’s futile. A waste of time. But in the meantime we still have planes dropping bombs on our heads. In the east we’ve got a juggernaut of Russian troops steamrolling towards us. I hear that our soldiers practically wet their pants and drop their weapons in their haste to run from the enemy. In the west we have the American, British, French, and Canadian forces closing in. And there our soldiers run in droves to surrender to the enemy.”
“Sounds like your bosses are expecting you to fix all that with a glass of water and a Tylenol,” the Sandman told Herman.
Herman was again confused by the Sandman’s words. “Tylenol? What is this Tylenol?”
“Sorry. I forgot again that you’re dated,” the Sandman’s reply.
The Sandman’s apology only increased Herman’s confusion. “Dated? That’s the second time that you’ve called me that.”
“Probably won’t be the last,” the Sandman added. “Let’s step this up a bit. I’ve got a busy night. So you Germans are getting your asses kicked and you need my help. I can help you out. But my help doesn’t come for free.”
Herman gave a nod. “Yes. I remember from the note that you sent me. I tell you about one of my dreams and then you’ll grant any wish that I want.” Herman could not believe that he had become so desperate that he was going along with this notion. But desperation was forcing him to consider all options.
Herman took a moment to think. “My last dream. I had this one a few days ago. I was in this crowd that was gathered in this street to hear a speech from the fuehrer. Hitler. There was a lot of people there. But They were all civilians and I was the only one wearing a military uniform. I could see myself standing in the back of the crowd. And just up ahead I can see the fuehrer standing in front of this podium up on a stage. Giving his speech. Then afterward he leaves and the crowd starts to disperse. And several people look at me and smile. Some of them even shake my hand. But then I turn around and I see my parents. Both of them are not smiling. In fact, they both scowl at me. Then they turn away and start to walk down the street. I try to catch up to them but they both get further and further away from me. I try to walk faster to catch up to them. But with each step I take they still get further away. Then they vanish into this fog. After that I woke up.”
“I take it that your parents weren’t too crazy about having a nazi for a kid. Did you ever think about joining the tea party?”
Once again Herman was confused. “Tea party?”
“Sorry. Dated. But you still have a pretty decent dream. I’ll take it. So now to fulfill my part of the deal. You want help out of your little bind with Gereral Kollar. I’ve got just the thing. What would you say about soldiers who are immune to bullets, feel no pain, and are void of any fear?”
Herman grinned. “If such soldiers exist then I’d love to meet them.”
“Then go introduce yourself. They’re right outside,” said the Sandman as he pointed a gloved hand towards the door.
Herman turned and looked to the door. He heard the sound of the air raid siren fading out. The sounds of the exploding bombs had ceased. “Sounds like the air raid is over,” Herman said. He turned back and saw that the Sandman was gone. “Wait. Where are you? Come back.”
Herman received no answer. And he was not eager to explore the darkness. He shifted his focus on the super soldiers that the Sandman described to him. Waiting for him outside. Herman went to the door and exited the shop.
Once Herman was outside he looked about the area. There was nobody else here. The street was empty. Herman began to grow angry. What the hell is this? Did that freak lie to me? he thought. Herman went back to the door and tried to open it. But he found that it was now locked. Herman pulled and turned the doorknob. Then he began to pound his fist on the door. His anger was now increasing. “Hey! Open up! Open this door right now!” he shouted. But received no comply to his command. He then gave the door a final pound before he turned and walked away.
I’ll come back here with a company of men and search every inch of this place until I find that fraud. Then I’ll make him pay for lying to me and making me look like a jackass, Herman vowed.
Herman started to walk down the street to find his staff car and driver. That was when he heard a tapping sound coming from behind. He turned and was shocked to see that the sound was coming from the mannequin wearing the black dress in the left window. It had formed it’s hand into a fist and was tapping on the window. Being just a few feet away from the Mannequin Herman saw that it had long red hair. He took a step back as he saw that the mannequin in the right window was also moving and tapping on the glass. The mannequin in the left window knocked on the glass again. Then it smashed it’s fist through the window. The sharp sound of breaking glass pierced Herman’s ears. He was horrified as he watched the mannequin step out of the window and onto the sidewalk. It’s black high heel shoes crunching against the broken glass as it began to slowly walk towards him. The second Mannequin in the blue dress now broke out of it’s window and began to take slow steps towards Herman. Herman stepped back and drew his luger from it’s holster.
“Stay back!” Herman shouted to warn. He raised his luger. The two mannequins continued their slow advance towards him. “Stay back!” he shouted again.
Herman took aim at the mannequin in the black dress and fired. There was a loud crack from his gun as it fired a bullet that pierced the mannequin’s dress, but did not stop it’s advance. Herman fired a second shot. Then a third. The mannequin continued walking towards him. He turned and fired at the one in the blue dress. But the result was the same. No effect.
“Stay back!” Herman again shouted. He turned his luger back to the red haired Mannequin. Then he was surprised when both mannequins stopped moving. He was even more surprised when they both raised their right hands up over their heads in a nazi salute.
Herman stood frozen in amazement over this sight. And he was also still fearful over what these two bizarre creatures would do next. Then they slowly lowered their arms and stood unmoving.
Herman heard the sound of a vehicle driving up behind him. He turned to see his black staff car approaching. His driver, sergeant Albert Frenzel, a young soldier in his twenties, stopped the car just a few feet away and got out.
“Major. Are you alright?” Frenzel asked. “We were separated during the air raid.”
“I’m alright,” Herman replied. He turned his attention back to the mannequins. They both took a step forward.
“What are those things?” asked a shocked Frenzel. “Are those some kind of mannequins? They’re moving.”
“That they are,” Herman replied. He was still apprehensive when he took a step closer to the mannequins. They both stopped moving. Herman recalled what the Sandman said about giving him soldiers who are immune to bullets, feel no pain, and are void of any fear. Are these things what he meant? Herman wondered. He moved closer to the red haired mannequin and examined the bullet holed in it’s dress after he had shot it. The plaster beneath the dress was barely scratched by his bullets. Then he developed the notion to examine these two creatures further. But not here on the street.
Herman placed his luger back into it’s holster and turned to Frenzel. “Open the back seat.” He turned back to the mannequins while pointing a finger to the car. He issued them an order, “Get in.”
Moving with a slow, stiff stride both mannequins complied with the order.
During the drive back to the camp Herman felt uneasy riding up front while the two mannequins were in the back seat. Even though he was keeping his head turned and his eyes on them during the entire trip he was still fearful of them. But then he reminded himself about the deal with the Sandman. This was when he wanted. But just not what he expected.
Thirty minutes later Herman’s staff car drove through the bombed city and crossed the thin bridge over the Danube River to reach camp 368, which was located close to the river bank. Camp 368 was a large installation enclosed by a tall barbed wire fence with guard towers spaced fifty feet apart from each other. The grounds inside and outside the fence was patrolled by armed guards. Frenzel drove the car up to the main gates. Two guards came out to pull the massive gates open. Frenzel proceeded to drive the car through the camp past the rows of prisoners barracks. They passed by small work details of prisoners dressed in their black and white striped pants and shirts. The details were led by the watchful eyes of their kappos, carrying long heavy clubs to dispense quick punishment to any stragglers.
The car came to a large, dark wooden building at the end of the camp. It was a warehouse converted into Herman’s makeshift office and laboratory. Frenzel parked the car next to a military truck in front of the building. Herman got out of the car and looked about to see that no one was nearby to catch sight of his two strange passengers. He ordered the mannequins to get out of the car and follow him up the flight of wooden steps to reach his laboratory on the second level.
Herman’s laboratory was a large area that had a row of four tables that were holding beakers of chemicals and wooden racks holding liquid filled test tubes. As well as surgical instruments. In front of these was a large round light mounted on a tripod, shining it’s beam down on an operating table. At the left side of the area were four metal cabinets standing against a long row of wooden crates. At the far right side of the area was a wall with several tall windows. Past the laboratory area was a short, six foot high wall of stacked wooden crates. At the left side of this wall was the door to Herman’s office.
After Herman had gotten the mannequins into his laboratory he told Frenzel to get his other assistant. A young lieutenant named Martin Shultz. Shultz was just as amazed as Frenzel was when he saw the walking mannequins. With Shultz and Frenzel both together Herman ordered them to complete secrecy. Then he wasted no time subjecting the two mannequins to every medical test that came to his mind in order to discover how they were able to move. He took a stethoscope to try to hear breathing and heartbeats. He checked for blood pressure. Examined their eyes and ears. He poked and prodded at the mannequins for over an hour but was unable to find out any more about them. Then Herman began to surrender to his fatigue and frustration and decided to go to his quarters next to the warehouse and turn in for the night. He would have a full, fresh day to tackle the mystery of the two mannequins in the morning.
The next morning Frenzel came to Herman’s quarters and awakened him with news that something strange had taken place with the mannequins. Herman hurried to dress into his uniform and hurry to the laboratory to receive a big surprise. Last night he had left the two mannequins in the laboratory alone. When he returned he found that the two mannequins were joined by four others. Two wearing black dresses. Two of them wearing blue. The other five mannequins were standing in a row. Standing in front of them was the red headed mannequin wearing the black dress.
“What’s this?” Herman asked as he approached the group of mannequins. “Where did these other four come from?”
“We don’t know, Major.” answered Schultz. “Frenzel and I came here this morning and they were just here.”
Strange, Herman thought. He walked closer to inspect the now expanded group of mannequins. As he moved from left to right all six mannequins slowly turned their heads, with the sound of a faint creaking, to follow him. This gave Herman an eerie feeling. Upon his inspection Herman noticed that all of the mannequins had dark hair. Except for the one with the red hair standing in the forefront. Herman stepped closer to this one. Brining his face inches from it’s head to examine it as closely as possible.
“Where do you think they came from, Major?” Schultz asked.
“I have a good idea,” Herman muttered. The name Sandman coming to his mind. He took a step back from the mannequin while locking his sight on it. “What the hell are you? The leader or something?” he asked the mannequin.
“These things have a leader?” Frenzel asked Herman.
“Hell. I don’t know,” was Herman’s answer. “But this one does stand out. The only one with red hair. I once knew a red head. Greta was her name.” Herman stepped closer to the mannequin. “How do you like that name? Greta. How does that sound?”
The mannequin, Greta gave no reply.
“So what are we going to do with these things?” was Shultz next question.
Herman stepped back from Greta and faced Schultz. “We’re going to try to find out what makes these things work. And if we can find out how they work then possibly we can duplicate it. And from there we can make more like them. Just look.”
Herman spun about to face Greta. He drew his luger from it’s holster and them fired two shots into it’s chest. He turned back to Schultz. “Imagine a fighting force of creatures like these. Impervious to bullets and pain. And the sight of these things. The psychological effect on the enemy alone would be an invaluable weapon. This will be more than enough to satisfy General Kollar when he comes to make his inspection three days from now.”
Schultz looked at the group of mannequins. Then looked back to Herman. “Find out how these things work? I don’t see how. Last night we gave these things all kinds of medical tests.”
“Then we’ll test them again.” Herman snapped. “We’ll keep testing them. If necessary we’ll take one of them apart. But one way or another I will find out what makes these things move. And I’m reminding you both of my order to tell anyone else outside of this room about this. Not a single soul. Is that understood?”
Both Schultz and Frenzel nodded and replied with the answer, yes.
From there Herman spent the day giving all six mannequins a wide range of medical tests. And true to his word he ordered Schultz and Frenzel to take one of the mannequins and dismantle it. They used a hacksaw to cut it into several small pieces. But in spite of all their combined efforts they learned nothing about what animated the mannequins. This failure frustrated Herman even more. After a fruitless day of examining the mannequins Herman retreated to his small office in the back and sat down at his desk to write down the details of the day down into his personal journal. After jotting down several entries Herman felt tired and depressed. He needed something to show General Kollar when he arrived for his inspection. And so far he had nothing. Herman needed a drink to hopefully uplift his mood. He opened his desk drawer and pulled out a bottle of brandy and a small glass. After spending the next half hour downing several drinks while sitting and brooding Herman fell asleep.
Herman awoke sitting at his desk. He looked down at his personal journal book. It was still open at the last page where he was writing. He felt a presence behind him. Thinking that it was either Frenzel or Schultz he turned and saw that it was the red haired mannequin, Greta standing over him. Herman cried out and jumped out of his chair. He landed in a sitting position on the floor while striking the back of his head against the desk. For a moment he closed his eyes while his mind registered the pain on the back of his head. At first he thought that he was in a bizarre dream. Then he opened his eyes and learned that he was wide awake. Greta was still standing over him. But there was something different about her face. Instead of a blank expression she had a smile.
“Stay back!” Herman shouted. He drew his luger and took aim at Greta.
Schultz and Frenzel rushed into the office just as Herman was rising to his feet. He kept the luger trained at Greta. He placed his left hand on the back of his aching head.
“Major. What’s wrong?” Frenzel asked.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Herman shouted at Greta.
The smiling mannequin did not respond.
“What happened?” asked Schultz. He tool a glance at Greta. “What was it doing?”
“It was just standing there. Hovering over me,” Herman replied. He took in a few breaths to try to calm down. He lowered his weapon.
“Standing over you? Why?” Frenzel asked.
Herman sighed. “I don’t know why.” He placed his luger back into it’s holster. Then pointed a finger at Greta’s face. “Get out of here.”
Greta backed away from Herman. Then slowly turned and walked out of the office.
As Greta left the office Herman felt beads of a nervous sweat forming across his brow. He wiped the back of his right hand against his brow and then looked to Schultz and Frenzel. “We’re done for today. We’ll start back tomorrow. But keep an eye on these things. Don‘t let them out of your sight.”
When Schultz and Frenzel left the office Herman Sat back down at his desk to try to calm down. He wrote the strange encounter down into his journal. And then took another drink of brandy. After a few minutes of dwelling on what happened he decided that there was nothing else he could do with the mannequins today. Hopefully tackling the problem with a fresh mind the next day would earn the breakthrough that he was seeking.
The next day Herman was again awakened by Frenzel, who informed him that another strange occurrence had taken place with the mannequins. The past day there were six of them. Now this morning that six had now become eleven. When Herman returned to the laboratory he was astonished to see that more mannequins had joined the group. All of them were lined up into two rows. They all turned their heads to face Herman when he came into the room. And all of them were smiling.
“Where the hell did these new ones come from?” Herman asked. He looked to Frenzel and Schultz. “I told you to watch them.”
“We were,” said Schultz. “We were both watching them. Then I left at midnight, but Frenzel stayed.”
“So what happened, sergeant?” Herman demanded.
“I watched them all night Major. They never left my sight. And I didn’t fall asleep. I only left them for a few minutes to run to the latrine. Then when I came back I found these new ones. Where do you think they came from?”
“How the hell do I know?” Herman bellowed back. He looked at the now bigger group of Mannequins. He noticed that one of them was missing. The stand out. The red head. “Greta. Where’s Greta?”
Frenzel looked at Schultz. Then looked back at Herman. “It was here a minute ago.”
Herman swiveled his head from left to right, looking about the laboratory. Then back to Frenzel and Schultz. “Find it.”
Herman began to look about the warehouse to find the mannequin while hoping that it did not leave the building. He walked past the wall of crates towards his office. He found that the door was open. And Greta was inside. “I found it.” he shouted. He entered his office to find that Greta was leaning over his desk. It had his journal book open. There were several papers scattered over the desk. Greta also had a pencil in it’s right hand.
Herman became angered at Greta’s trespass. “What the hell are you doing here?”
Greta stepped back away from the desk. There was no response from it’s smiling face. Schultz and Frenzel entered the office. Herman looked down at the papers on his desk. He picked one of them up and saw that it had writing. S.S Major Herman Bower was written on the paper from top to bottom. He saw that his name was also written on the other papers. He showed the paper to Schultz.
Schultz read the paper. Then shifted a glance to Greta. “That thing wrote this?”
Schultz handed the paper to Frenzel. Frenzel quietly read over the paper. “Major. This is your handwriting. Down to the last detail.”
“I know,” said Herman. He picked up and read some of the other papers on his desk. They contained copies of his journal entries. His own handwriting was duplicated down to the smallest detail. He looked at the smiling Greta. His anger turned to curiosity. “So you can write,” he said to Greta. “Then perhaps you can communicate.”
“Communicate?” Frenzel asked.
Herman ignored Frenzel and tore out a blank page from his journal book. He laid it down on his desk and pointed to it as he looked to Greta. “If you can understand me then write something.”
Greta stepped forward with the pencil still in it’s hand. It’s plaster body creaked as it leaned over to the desk and began to write on the paper. It jotted down a few words, then it straightened up and stepped back. Herman picked up the paper and read it. His eyes narrowed as they shifted from the paper to Greta.
“What does it say?” Schultz inquired. “What did it write down?”
Herman hesitated before he answered. Keeping his eyes on Greta. “It wrote, you’re all going to die.”
Schultz and Frenzel both stood speechless. Herman took the paper and held it out to Greta’s face.
“What the hell is the meaning of this? Answer me.”
The smiling Greta did not respond.
“Answer me, dammit. Why did you write this?”
There was still no response.
Herman tore the paper in half and then threw both pieces to the floor. “Get out of here,” he ordered Greta.
Greta turned and slowly walked out of the office.
Frenzel watched Greta as it left. Then he approached Herman. “Major. I don’t like this. These…things. They give me the creeps. Maybe we should get rid of them.”
Herman was surprised at what he had just heard. “Get rid of them? Get rid of them because they make you uneasy? Is that your scientific solution? And if we do then what? Which would you fear more? A few oversized walking dolls? Or General Kollar when he comes here in two more days and see that we have nothing to offer him? Please tell me, sergeant. Which do you fear more?”
Frenzel said nothing.
“Let’s not have any more talk about this. Let’s just get to work. I want you to get a bunch of rifles and set up some practice shooting targets off to the side of the lab. I’m taking this project in a new direction.”
It did not take Schultz and Frenzel long to set up five bullseye shooting targets at the far left side of the warehouse. And they issued each of the mannequins a K98 Mauser rifle and ammunition. Herman’s new direction in dealing with the mannequins was to hold off trying to find out how they work until later. But for now he was going to train them to be the perfect soldiers while hoping that this mysterious reproduction would continue and grant him even more.
Herman ordered the mannequins to line up several feet away from the targets. He demonstrated to them how to load their rifles. Each of them followed his instructions without a single mistake. Now it’s time to see if these things can shoot, he thought. He ordered five of the mannequins to line up in front of their targets and take aim. Schultz was standing at a safe distance at the left side of the group. Frenzel was standing With Herman at the right. The mannequins raised their rifles up to their heads to take aim. Then simultaneously fired with several loud cracks echoing through the warehouse. Then they lowered their rifles.
Frenzel walked up to the targets and examined each one. He turned and reported his findings. “Perfect bulls eyes. Every one.”
Herman clapped his hands together and laugher. “Perfect. This is better than I hoped. You see. We already have the perfect fighting force. All we have to do is just give them weapons, give them orders, and let them do the rest.”
“And give them uniforms,” Schultz commented. “I can’t see them going into battle wearing these dresses.”
Herman waved his hand. “We can take care of that later. Right now we have a lot to train them on. Next group. Step up to the targets.”
The first five mannequins stepped back as the second group slowly lined up. Greta was among them. Frenzel walked back to his safe position at the right. Herman ordered the mannequins to aim and fire. They all raised their rifles up to their heads. Then two of the mannequins at the right of the group swiveled and aimed their rifles at Frenzel. The weapons went off with loud cracks. Frenzel yelled out and then fell backward. He lay on the floor with his legs thrashing as he grasped his throat. Herman and Schultz rushed over to him. They both kneeled down to see streams of blood gushing out between Frenzel’s fingers. Wet gurgles came out of his mouth. His eyes were wide with fear. As Herman was looking down at Frenzel’s terrified face he could feel that same fear washing over him as if he were being sprayed by a fireman’s water hose.
“He’s dying. We’ve got to do something,” cried a frantic Schultz.
Herman considered getting Frenzel some help. But at the same time he still wanted to keep the mannequins a secret from the rest of the camp. He was torn over what to do. Then the decision was made for him. Frenzel’s legs stopped thrashing. The next second he was laying dead on top of an expanding pool of his own blood.”
“He’s dead,” Schultz exclaimed. He stood and backed away. “He’s dead. Those things killed him.”
Herman was at a loss as to what to say or do. For the moment his eyes were still locked onto Frenzel’s. He could still feel the mans fear.
“Those things killed him. We have to do something,” Schultz insisted.
Herman took in a deep breath. He thought for a moment. Then looked up at Schultz. “I have an idea. Here’s what I want you to do. First, go get one of the striped uniforms that the prisoners wear. Put the uniform on Frenzel’s corpse. Then get a razor and shave off all of Frenzel’s hair. Then take your boot or a hammer and smash his face in so that he can’t be easily recognized. Then tell sergeant Kluge that you have a prisoner to be taken to the ovens for cremation.”
Schultz’ mouth gaped open in shock over hearing this grim order.
“And don’t forget to hide his uniform,” Herman added. He stood and pointed a finger at Schultz. “This is an order, Lieutenant. You will not tell a soul about what happened here. Is that clear?”
“Yes Major.”
“Well then get moving!” Herman snapped.
Schultz rushed out of the warehouse, leaving Herman to ponder what had just happened.
It was an accident. It had to be. But no. They turned and shot him. It was deliberate. I saw it. What the hell went wrong? Herman stepped closer to the mannequins. He pointed a finger at Frenzel’s corpse. The mannequins all turned their smiling heads to face him. “Why did you do this? This was no accident. Tell me. Why? Why?”
There was no response from the mannequins. He charged up to Greta and snatched the rifle out of it’s hands. For a brief moment he considered Frenzel’s suggestion from yesterday. Get rid of these things. But with General Kollar arriving in one more day Herman had no choice but to go one with them. At this stage there was no turning back. He was determined to make this project work, while accepting Frenzel’s death as a small sacrifice to save Germany.
The next day Herman returned to the warehouse and was surprised to see that more of the mannequins had mysteriously arrived. Much more. He now had a total of twenty. Herman and Schultz spent the entire day giving the group of mannequins full military training. Shooting practice went perfectly. And without any other accidents. He trained them how to march. How to use dummy grenades. Set up and use heavy machine guns and mortars. He even taught them how to apply basic first aid to wounded soldiers on the field. After a full day of training with the mannequins Herman had full confidence that they would be ready to present to general Kollar the next day.
Morning came. Herman was out in front of the warehouse at 7:00 A.M to meet General Kollar’s staff car. The General’s car drove up and parked in front of the building. A tall, thin soldier emerged from the drivers side and opened the rear door to allow the general to get out. Kollar was a six foot tall, portly middle aged man dressed in a spotless black uniform. His two junior officers got out of the car after him. Herman walked over to the general and kicked the heels of his boots together as he raised his right hand in a Nazi salute.
Kollar returned the salute. “Good morning, Major. I trust you had a pleasant night’s sleep.”
“Yes sir,’ said Herman. “I had a good rest after a busy week.”
“I can imagine,” said Kollar. “Well. I’m very anxious to see this new development that you’ve told me about.”
Herman raised a hand to the warehouse. “Right this way, sir. I promise that you are going to be very impressed by what you‘re going to see.”
Herman lead the way up the stairs to his warehouse laboratory. He had a nervous feeling, but he was also bursting with pride over what he had accomplished with the mannequins. When he entered the laboratory with his guests he lead them to the group of mannequins, who were lined up into two rows. They were now dressed in black waffen S.S. uniforms. On each mannequin’s smiling head was a metal helmet with the distinctive twin lightning bold decals on the sides. Each mannequin had it’s mauser rifle, with fixed bayonets, propped against it’s left shoulder while it’s right hand was raised in the air as a nazi salute.
As Herman drew near he noticed that the lead mannequin, Greta was missing. Also missing was Lieutenant Schultz. He had no time to wonder where they were. He began his presentation. “Here they are, sir. The ultimate fighting force.”
Herman smiled as he pointed his hands to the formation of mannequins. General Kollar and his two junior officers did not smile.
“Ultimate fighting force?” asked Kollar.
“Yes sir,” beamed Herman. “This will turn the war around in our favor. The enemy won’t stand a chance against this.”
Kollar held a grim frown on his face as he looked to his two officers. Then he looked back at Herman. “Mannequins? Big oversized dolls? I came here to look at big stupid dolls?”
“No sir. They’re not just dolls. They walk. They can shoot. They can do anything that any human soldier can do.”
Kollar was still frowning. “Major. I have no time for games or jokes. Please show me this new development that you told me about.”
Herman’s smile faded. “But general. This is the development. Just watch them in action for yourself.” Herman turned to face the mannequins. He barked out a loud order. “Attention. Forward march.”
The mannequins did not move.
Herman repeated the order in a louder voice. “Forward march!”
There was still no response.
“March you idiots! March! March! Move!”
Kollar grabbed Herman by his collar and shoved him back into a table. Knocking over several beakers in the process. They shattered as they hit the floor. There was an angry scowl on Kollar’s face. “Are you playing games with me, major? is that it? You’re trying to pacify me with some stupid game?”
“No. No sir. No,” said a now panicking Herman. “This is no game. I swear. They can move. I don’t know what’s wrong with them. Maybe there’s some kind of malfunction with then. But I swear. They can shoot. I swear it. Just ask Lieutenant Schultz. He worked with me. He can tell you. Just ask him.”
Kollar shoved Herman back against the table. “Very well then. Go find Shultz.”
Herman looked about the laboratory for the Lieutenant. “Shultz! Shultz!” he called out. But there was no answer. He looked to the still angry General. “He might be in the back. Let me go look.”
Herman walked around the wall of crates to reach his office. The door was closed. When he opened the door he received a shocking sight. Lieutenant Schultz was laying on the floor. Standing over him was Greta, dressed in it’s S.S uniform. It was holding it’s rifle with a long bayonet attached to the end of the barrel, plunged deep into Schultz’s chest. Schultz let out a moan as Greta pulled out the blood stained bayonet, then aimed the barrel of the rifle to Schultz’s face and fired. A loud crack rang out through the warehouse. Then Greta raised the rifle and tossed it to Herman. The stunned Herman grabbed the weapon and stared wide eyed and unblinking at Greta. He was speechless.
Kollar and his two officers rushed over to the office. The officers had their lugers in hand.
“What the hell is going on here?” Kollar yelled.
Herman looked down at Schultz’s dead body. Then at Greta, who was now unmoving. Then he looked at Kollar.
“Major. What the hell did you do?” Kollar demanded. “Drop that rifle.”
“But general. I-”
“Drop the rifle, Major,” Kollar demanded.
Herman complied with the order.
One of Kollar’s officers looked down at Schultz. Herman now noticed that Schultz had several papers in his hands. The officer took the papers and read over two of them. He then gave the papers to Kollar to read. A great feeling of dread came over Herman as he watched Kollar’s eyes narrow while his chin and frowning lips began to quiver. Then Kollar spoke. “These papers are very interesting, Major. Pages from your journal. I recognize your hand writing. Let me share some with you. November 29th. 1944. That fat idiot Kollar thinks I can create some kind of fairy tale weapons to win the war. He’s too stupid to realize that it’s all a big waste. The war is lost. As lost as he is. The fat dumb ass.”
The now shivering Herman was at a lost to explain this. “General. I…I…I”
Kollar read the next page. “December 1st, 1944. I don’t know which one of the two is more stupid. Kollar or Hitler. Perhaps they’re fraternal twins. Either way they can both go to hell. As soon as the allies in the west get close enough I’ll sneak the hell out of here in the middle of the night and turn myself over to them. If necessary I can use Kollar as a bargaining chip to help secure my own freedom. God knows he has enough war crimes racked up to make the allies very interested in him. And I wouldn’t mind seeing his flabby ass swinging from the end of a hangman’s rope.”
“General. Please listen. I didn’t-”
Kollar read the next one. “December 3rd, 1944. That idiot, Schultz has been snooping around the office again. He might suspect what I’m up to. I’ve got to get rid of him just like I got rid of Sergeant Frenzel. It’s the only way to save my ass. Nothing is going to stand in my way.” Kollar stopped reading and then turned his grim face to Herman. “So Major. It seems that we have all the pieces of this puzzle laid out for us. You’re a fraud and a filthy traitor. And poor Schultz here had the evidence against you. So you killed him on the spot.”
Herman shook his head. “No. No. It wasn’t me. I’m no traitor. I didn’t kill him. I didn’t write those things. It was-”
“The doll here?” Kollar said. “This stupid doll wrote all this in your own handwriting. And then killed Schultz because it had nothing better to do. Am I right?”
Herman was still shaking his head. “No. No. You’ve got it all wrong.”
“So my ass is flabby. Is it?”
Herman was still shaking his head. “No sir. It’s not.”
Kollar turned to one of his officers. “Captain. Take this fraud and traitor out to the courtyard. Then assemble the entire camp. I want everyone to watch as we have him hanged by one of the guard towers.”
Herman’s state of panic had now reached a critical stage. “No!” he cried out. Then bolted past the men. He was heading for the door to escape when he heard several gunshots blazing from behind. He felt the sting of three bullets drilling through his right shoulder. But he kept running. Herman burst through the door and then in his haste to escape lost his footing and tumbled down the stairs. From the warehouse Herman could hear Kollar’s voice booming out.
“Get him! Kill him! Kill him!”
Herman had to escape. He looked up and saw a soldier walking towards a large truck parked nearby. Disregarding the pain in his shoulder Herman jumped to his feet and made a dash for the truck. He reached the surprised soldier and grabbed him by the arm to pull him to the ground. As Herman was getting into the truck he could still hear Kollar’s voice.
“Stop him! Stop Major Bower! Shoot him! That’s an order. Shoot him!”
Herman started the truck and turned it around to head for the main gate. He heard several rapid machine gun shots coming from behind. He looked back to see that there was nothing to protect him from the soldiers gunfire except a thin, dark grey tarp that separated the cab from the back of the truck. Herman’s foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor and the truck was barreling through the camp at top speed to reach the main gate. Two guards jumped out of the way the moment before the truck crashed into the gates and smashed them open. Herman could still hear the gunfire. Then he felt two bullets piercing his lower, left back. He let out a grunt, but continued driving. He saw the bridge just a few feet up ahead. If he could drive across it then he had a greater hope for freedom.
As Herman reached the bridge he saw that there was another truck attempting to cross from the opposite direction. There were more sounds of machine gun fire from behind. A bullet pierced his left shoulder. Three more bullets penetrated the tarp and shattered the passenger’s side of the windshield. And there was no room on the bridge for both trucks to pass. Herman jerked the steering wheel to the right and the truck swerved into the frail wooden guard rail at the side of the bridge. The truck broke through the guard rail and then plunged over the side and into the river. Herman panicked and screamed out in fear as the cold water began to fill the inside of the sinking truck.
Herman still had a chance to escape. It was a simple matter for him to hold his breath and swim out through the broken out windshield. But just as He was about to make his move a figure burst through the tarp and grabbed him in a tight embrace. Herman struggled to break free, but he found that it was like he was chained down to his seat. He was able to turn around just enough to see who was restraining him. He almost opened his mouth to cry our in fear when he saw that he was being held back by a female mannequin in a black dress. It’s smiling face was mere inches from his own. Herman struggled like a desperate madman to try and escape. He had only a minute’s supply of air in his lungs. The blood from his bullet wounds began to rise as a crimson cloud in the water. And then his need for air caused his lungs to ache. Then he opened his mouth to let out a watery scream that no one else would hear. S.S Major Herman Bower. Bower the Beast of camp 368 was not only being drowned by the cold water of the Danube. But by the fear of his impending and inescapable death.
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