Maria, a married Frenchwoman living in Nazi-occupied Hautmont in the Second World War, is in need of a unique kind of love. Who would've thought that uniquely forbidden love comes in the form of a devilishly handsome Nazi Lieutenant?
(Inspired by Su...
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Maria
June, 1940
Hautmont, France
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RELIEF FLOODED MY every pore when I realised it was the lieutenant, who had been billeted to live with me, who had interrupted the soldier who was keeping me here against my will; he was no soldier.
Earlier when I had been waiting in the firearm queue, he had approached me and whispered, "You're a pretty little thing, even if you are a cowardly Frenchwoman." He'd then said to me, as I was leaving, that he'd "see me soon." I clearly hadn't bargained that it would be this soon. The soldier hadn't told me his name, but I guessed that he was a private, as he was wearing the same uniform as all the others, apart from the lieutenant living in my house and a couple of other men of the same rank. He'd approached me as I was leaving Greta's stall, as she had asked me to look after it this afternoon, and had all but yanked me behind the archway, which led out to the countryside and all the wheat fields. He hadn't touched me, only caged me against the wall as he whispered things in my ear in German – rude things. I wanted to hit him, to kick him, but I knew that if I did, it would be the last thing I'd ever do.
The lieutenant, he'd said his name was Otto, towered over the private, and his face was morphed into one of pure rage, the peak from his cap hiding the inevitable sharpness of his blue eyes.
"Can I help you with something, lieutenant?" the private hisses to Lieutenant Otto, as I squeeze myself further into the wall; I wanted to get away from him.
"Maybe you could start with letting the lady go," Lieutenant Otto replies calmly, his voice sharp, as he stood in front of us like a menacing shadow. "You know what Captain Hoffmann said about interfering with the women here; I wouldn't want to be the one to tell him that you're keeping a girl here against her will."
Scoffing, the private takes a step away from me, turning to face Lieutenant Otto with downright obnoxiousness. "You're really going to tell my Uncle Karl about my rendezvous with a useless French girl, Otto?" He moves so close to the lieutenant that I feared Otto might punch him. "You've lost all the fun about you since you were betrothed to marry Thea Müller. Is she missing you, Otto? Or is she just shacked up with one of her many lovers?"
At that exact moment, Lieutenant Otto grabs the private roughly by the throat and throws him up against the wall; his feet weren't touching the damp, muddy ground anymore as the lieutenant lifted him higher and higher off the floor. His reddening face was at the same height as Otto's when he spat to the private, "I don't care who you are; if I wanted to, I could make your life a living hell. So, stay away from her, and everyone else for that matter."
