Part Three.

Standing, peering into a rusted framed mirror, Klaus's lathered his face with shaving soap, the rough bristled brush making circles of white foam against his cheek.
I stood in the doorway, leaning against the frame, watching. His back muscles flexed as he lathered up, the contours of this back narrowing down to a thin waist. Stood in once white, but now pale grey worn undershorts the rise of his buttocks stood proud revealing muscled legs beneath and calves with fine blond hair picked up by the weak morning sunlight that angled its way into his bedroom.

Klaus saw me in the reflection in the mirror. He picked up his razor and started to make slow careful strokes downwards, scraping the stubble from his cheek. Between stokes he washed off the blade in the blue and white wash bowl placed on the dressing table, the matching jug at its side.

"I saw the captain, yesterday. I had to report in. He was happy for me to stay here bit longer" he said before puckering his lips downwards to stretch the skin on this top lip. He gently started to scrape stubble away.

"Yes, I saw him in the butchers yesterday afternoon. I meant to say but what with orchestra practise going on so late I didn't have chance to tell you. He was happy to continue with you staying here. Your group won't be moving on for a few months and he has no concerns with you being in the community"

Klaus smiled into the mirror. "Gud" he said, concentrating as he lifted his neck to shave the growth of hair from his neck. The community integration had worked well, Klaus had become well known, offering his physical bulk to manual tasks around the village. Bailing hay, building walls, even scaling roofs to fix tiles and plug leaks, he had progressed to smiling terms with many locals, the sour, distrustful glances gradually replaced with raised hands of welcome and smiles that exuded a little warmth, rather than the fractured manufactured English politeness that initially confused my guest.

It had been around a month since I'd welcomed Klaus into my bed and we had settled into a level of domesticity. A strange one granted, two men brought together in war, to be separated only to be reunited by happenstance and chance. The feeling that this was temporary, a brief spell, before we were separated once more hung heavy at times, but we pushed it away as much as we could. Enjoying the days and nights we had. I allowed Klaus to always make the first move. He was at the mercy of the largest trauma and upheaval so I never pushed him. I didn't want to admit to myself that I was too reticent to make the first move. It still felt oddly wrong.

We couldn't show affection in public as these things didn't happen, not in these times. Two men, and one German! In private it was a different matter. Like now, I ventured into his room and wrapped my arms around his waist. The firm stomach muscles, flat and contoured. I kissed the back of this neck, and he placed his hand over mine, on his stomach.

"We can't go together as such, but you will join me at Edens Fair?" I asked

Edens fair was a fete, running back hundreds of years, celebrated in the village every year. The history of it was hazy, allegedly named after a local priest who had arranged a yearly afternoon of food and entertainment in aid of the local poor. It had ebbed and flowed over the years, especially between 1914 and 1918 and since '39 to now. This year there been a drive to make 1947 the best, most successful event.Aunt Mimi was the main driver, organising Morris Dancing, a Punch n Judy show, fair and carnival games and food. Rations were still in effect and luxury's were scarce but she spent many an hour cajoling farmers to spare this, or that. We didn't really get on, her and I but I had a grudging respect for her voracity.

The planning took weeks and Aunt Mimi roped me in to various tasks. Never in a family, connected way, it was like I was an employee. She made it clear that Klaus was not welcome. Of course she had no idea that he and I had become intimate, but the idea of letting one of 'those Germans' into her project was too much for her. A lot of locals had started to at least tolerate, if not welcome the stationed prisoners, but her grudge was strong, her opinion would not be altered. They had to pay for their crimes, suffer and serve penance. Not being able to show my hand, I had to keep my cards close to my chest, the risk of giving too much away gnawed away at me, so I kept quiet, not engaging with her rants other than tutting in the right place and nodding at the correct times to show my agreement. I kept my interactions with her a closed subject in front of Klaus.

"Ya, why not?" Said Klaus washing the residue of soap was his face, then drying his face and hands in a towel. "What do want to do today?" It was Sunday and the banks were shut of course, and Klaus's work projects were similarly set aside for the day. I couldn't face church, not this week. I went, as did most but I didn't go every week. After each fill of righteousness preaching it took a period to empty my tanks sufficiently to allow the next sermon to refill it. Go too often and I may be tempted to stand in the pews and holler out at the double standards of it all. Judge not lest ye be just yourself they commanded earnestly while judging just about everyone around them. She was a harlot, he a philanderer, those dirty Germans, and on it went. I needed a period of silence between the sermons to quieten my latent anger.

"Let's go out to the lake this afternoon, we can row to Monty island" I said, watching as Klaus as he dressed, slipping into his shirt and trousers. He thrust his feet into boots and bent to lace them.

Aunt Mimi's estate was vast, encompassing a lake and a rough piece of land at the centre where sparse bushes and trees fought for space amongst the wild flowers. An island was stretching it a bit, but it had been known as Monty island all the time I had been visiting there.

We breakfasted, some eggs and toast with tea. Klaus missed his coffee, but the beans were so expensive, were not on the ration coupon system, and as I jokingly ribbed him, when in England, do as the English do, so tea it was. He mock saluted me, a parody of an English officer and I tweaked his nose.

The weather was warm, edging towards autumn but still warm enough to encourage the insects to buzz around us as I pushed the boat out onto the water, hopping in to join Klaus who frantically gripped the sides as my boarding bobbed the boat from side to side. Settling into the seat, facing Klaus I unclipped the oars and dipped them into the water, pulling back, raising and lowering as we moved through the water. With a look of contentment I rarely saw from him, at least away from the privacy of the house, I saw Klaus relax, taking in the scenery as we crossed the lake towards the island. The marquees erected in readiness for Edens fair had popped up, on the lawns to the side of the summer lake house on the far bank of the lake.

A flock of starlings darted over head, twisting into blurred shapes as they changed direction

"Vogel" I said using my thumb, still on the oar to point vaguely in the birds direction.

Laughing a hearty laugh, Klaus's pointed skywards, "Bird!" He shouted. We both laughed transported back to the surreal day in France, trading English and German names for things as we lay drying after the mud wrestle.

We smiled at each other, Klaus's white even teeth stark against his tanned face. Lapsing into silence, both reliving the days after that moment I rowed onwards. For him the memory of the capture and the uncertainty. For me, the drive deeper into France, each mile towards Germany a mile deeper into hell and chaos.

The noise of the water lapped against the boat, the gentle swish as oars sliced through the water, mixing with the birdsong and the calls from wildlife, becoming the sound track to our own thoughts. Klaus's reached forward and touched my leg. I stopped rowing and the boat slowed.

His voice was low serious, "Miriam sagte, die Hoffa Ich wurde den richtigen Mann fur mich finden.

His eyes glassy now, shining. He swallowed, his throat bobbing, "Ich Glau, Ich habe"

"Klaus" I whispered, "I don't understand that."

Klaus waved his hand, asking me to not to press him. I placed the oar in the boat and wiped away his tear with my thumb.

I rowed on in silence between strokes checking Klaus's face who had seemed to recover, his eyes dry, but with his mind obviously elsewhere.

"Tell me more about Germany" I asked.
Reverting back to his mother tongue he was obviously back there in his mind, so I thought I'd give him space to tell me what he wanted, rather than make him translate his last comment. We had spoken of his past of course, getting to know each other as we built a relationship. I knew he hailed from Dresden, was an only child and was academically gifted at music and art. At the outbreak of war he was training in the Dresden Opera House, and had been conscripted as soon as he reached nineteen.

"It's beautiful" he smiled wistfully, "or at least it was"

I lowered my eyes, knowing that Bomber Command had razed his home city to the ground.

"It was ugly even before the RAF came," He explained, "The city was beautiful. At least the buildings were" He paused choosing his English carefully. It had come on leaps and bounds since he'd arrived but there was still times he struggled
"It changed when he came into power, the fuhrer, people turned against each other by lining up behind him. Whatever he said people followed, even if they know it not right"

He picked at his nails, studying his hands as he continued, "I was even more scared, being like us. And Miriam and Anke. We saw what was happening to people he thought enemies, Jude, romanies, political opponents. They were beaten in public and sometimes rounded up, and then disappear. We were, not sure how you say it, a big target on a small ass"

Despite myself I smiled, "I understand" I said gently

"So we got married. It was stupid but it gave us the chance to become safe. We had agreed with the party in the most part. They did well at the start back in the early thirties, got the country back on its feet after the first war, gave us pride. But he took that and twisted it. Everything good turned bad, and people went along with it. We did, Miriam and I, we went to the rallies, the cheering, the songs. Deep in here, " he tapped his heart, "we knew it was wrong, but up here," he tapped his forehead, "told us we must stay quiet. Speak up, we end up like the Jude. We all went crazy, but by the time we had realised it was too late. We had encouraged them, allowed them to change laws, change us as people."

He looked out across the lake, deep in his memories. "Everyone thought they were making us strong, giving us back our hope, and our dreams. No one really understood they were taking everything away. He thought other people were sub human. Maybe it was us"

"It must have been hard" I agreed, at a loss of what to actually say. It was good that the Allies had won of course, we had to bring the regime down, but behind the lunacy and the hypnotic leader there was just as many victims, people who's lives had been ripped away by their own fanaticism, or if they survived could be obliterated by the arsenal of bombs dropped on them from us. In a way they had lost twice, first their minds, and then their futures. The future of Germany was bleak, Russia was already circling, like vultures over a carcass. There would be many millions of casualties. Two in fact, in this boat.

Klaus's brightened, "Enough of this though. What is done is done. If all this teaches one thing, it is to live for the day"

"Hear, hear" I said, smiling at my companion.

"Hear what?" Klaus said, a line of puzzlement creasing his forehead

I laughed, "aaah just a silly English saying, it means 'I agree', that's all"

"You English," he smirked, "so confusing"

The island was growing bigger as I rowed, the sun strong, even in the late afternoon, making the water glisten like jewels. As we drew into the bank I stood to prepare to tether it to the wooden landing dock, when I felt the boat lurch. Klaus was on his haunches rocking the boat, the daft grin back on his face I'd seen at the pool. It felt a lifetime ago. He increased his rocking and I tried to steady myself, arms windmilling around I as I struggled to keep up with the bucking vessel. I over compensated and lurched backwards, arms performing pathetic circles as I toppled into the water. I burst back through the surface, shaking my head to dislodge the water. Looking up I saw Klaus's belly laughing. Just as he had been at the pool he was bent over one hand on his knee, his eyes squeezed shut as he guffawed.

"Why, you rotter" I shouted, treading water, trying not to laugh. I cupped a handful of lake water and threw it at Klaus. He dodged its spray easily, laughing harder at my retaliation. I was laughing now, my shirt floating up around my shoulders. The water was warm, but a cool release from the heat of the sun and the exertion of the row.

Throwing more water, he danced along the boat, only a few droplets streaking his trousers. He bent and reached for my blazer and hat I'd taken off to row, and picked them up, brandishing them to me.

"No, no" I cried, my laughter joining with his as he tossed my remaining clothes into the water. The hat floated away, bobbing merrily along and I swam to it, plucking it from the water. I placed it on my head and reached for the sopping blazer that was lazily heading away from the boat, it's arms floating out at its sides, like a drowned man.

"Right!" I roared and threw the blazer back into the boat where it landed in a wet heap and grabbed the side of the boat, violently pulling the side down. The oars tumbled out into the water and I caught glimpse of Klaus as he toppled in, joining me. With a face awash with glee and joy he dived in, fully clothed.

The splash cascaded up, droplets pattering down over me. He disappeared under the water and I sensed him moving beneath me. He drove up, my legs on either side oh his head as he powered up, raising me up in the water, the shallow water allowing him to plant his feet in the lake bed and use his strength to launch me. I flew up and crashed back down into the lake a fan of water hitting the side of the boat. I turned, launching myself at him, pulling him under with me. We wrestled under water, spinning around as we grappled. Bubbles escaped his lips, heading to the surface, his mouth still set to a grin. His hands wrapped my body, and I felt his strong arms embrace me. I spun, facing him, chest deep in water, my hands around his waist. Reaching around to the front of him, my hand entered the top of this trousers, searching for him. He was soft and I wrapped my fingers around him, massaging. By comparison I was hard, and the realisation hit me, like the water splash hitting the side of the boat.
Klaus didn't register this as a prelude to sex, this was for the joy and the absurdity of the situation only. It made sense, clarity flooding me, he dealt with the oppression of his sexuality in this way. It had been driven underground even more by the regime, so this childlike playfulness was the manifestation of the secrecy. When alone his sexual appetite was buoyant, as hungry as mine, but these kinds of playful acts, the mud wrestle, the water fight was him unwinding the traumas he had, and thus in turn allowing him to express love properly when he was able and the time was right.
The urge to kiss him was strong, but I fought against it, he wanted to keep our sexual activities separate from this playfulness so I denied my own urges and launched myself at him, driving us both underwater as I instigated round two of this particular match.

******************

We lay on Monty island. Our wet clothes draped over bushes as they dried in the late afternoon sun. We led on the grass, naked once more, my head on Klaus's chest, his arm around me, feet crossed at his ankles

"This is like being back in France" I said tousling the fine hairs that led from his navel, heading down to his pubic bush.

"Ya, but no sound of guns though" he retorted, smiling. He lifted his arm up and I lifted myself up from his chest, sitting up, looking back out across the lake towards the main house. Klaus sat up, joining me side by side. Our legs touched and I revelled at the feeling of his skin on mine. He picked at the daises, so abundant here and started to make a daisy chain. I watched as he worked.

"I never want to leave here" he said melancholically, his head down, concentrating.
Feeling the same I watched a bee flit from flower to flower, harvesting nectar as it busily entered each flower, deep within the petals to seek out its treasure

"I don't want you to either" I agreed, eventually. The bee has made its way out of the flower, burdened with its harvest and buzzed to Klaus's leg where it landed on the hair of his thigh. I tensed, the buzzing insects not being a favourite of mine. Klaus seemed unperturbed, watching it try to seek out nectar from his body hair.

"You'll get no" he stopped searching for the English word. Failing, he looked up at me, "what's the English word? In Germany it is nektar"

"Nectar" I laughed repeating him

Klaus smiled. "aaah you'll get no nektar there my little friend"

As if agreeing with him the bee lifted off, buzzing away towards the flowers on the bank.

"See?" Klaus said, "we Germans not so different"

I smiled warmly, watching the bee disappear into the distance, the small black shape getting smaller and smaller until I could no longer make it out.

We sat with our thoughts for a moment.

"What I said back there in the boat, in German," Klaus said quietly. His voice ripe with emotion, "was that Miriam said in her book she hoped I would find a man I could love"

I looked at him, his square jaw tense, serious.

"Eric, I think I've found that man"


****************

We made love again, on the bank. Klaus pulling me to him after his translation of his German, his turn to seek out my privates, taking the lead. I lay back, allowing him access to my body, unhindered, wholeheartedly. He too was erect, standing proud as he kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, my lips, chin, working down to my chest, nipples, belly before he took me into his mouth. A rush of intense desire rushed through me, filling my body with love for him. Klaus had completed a part of me I had never dared to acknowledge exist. One could love a man, as one does a woman. The difference was merely body composition, the emotions identical to the books I'd read, and the plays I'd watched.