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CaenObjective
Title: Caen Objective
Keywords: hist, mf, rom
Author: Caesar
Said a lecherous fellow named Shea,
When his prick wouldn't rise for a lay,
"You must seize it, and squeeze it,
And tease it, and please it,
For Rome wasn't built in a day."
Caen Objective (originally titled Dream #1)
by Caesar, copyright 1992-2002
$Revision: 1.7 $ $Date: 2002/04/15 14:07:22 $
My regiment had fought and died those days in early July, 1944. Yet
when we finally entered Caen, tired half-starved people began to
cheer. Not only that, a few brazen and obviously relieved civilians
ventured forth and embraced and gave us hastily picked flowers. Many
civilians were weeping, more were dazed from the fury of the fighting.
I felt very inadequate, most of the rubble that was left of the city,
had been massed bombed only the night before by the Allied air force.
The few under my command gave their share of cigarettes and
rations of food to the happy people. One lad even handed me the
head off a home made doll, I hadn't the heart to return it.
Our orders had come early that morning of the 9th, the Maquis, the
French Resistance were leading us to the objective. The city offices.
It was called "Operation Goodwood", or by us Canadians, "Operation
Atlantic". The "Operation" seemed a very fancy word, in my little
corner of the battle, I was given objectives. And every one I fought
very hard for, we took. Yet as I walked through the rubble of the
streets, looking upon the thousands of refugees and huddled persons in
dark corners and under debris. My heart went out to them, was all
this destruction worth the lives that was taken. Sure the allies had
dropped leaflets to warn the city that it was about to be bombed, but
even as I walk down the streets and across mounds that were once
buildings, I often saw ugly grey bloated bodies. Once we passed an
emergency hospital, set up in a monks' refectory, bodies were piled
outside it with little dignity, inside the dim and chaotic interior
could just be made out. I was in hell!
Thankfully, the distance took little time. I stood behind a corner of
a windowless building and followed the pointing finger of the Maquis
guide. High in up in the building could just be seen the shadow of
crouched figure, a barrel sticking out the door. A sniper! And no
doubt, not alone. Unfortunately, most of the Division was sent to the
suburbs were large pockets of German resistance held on. The average,
sane infantryman hated door-to-door fighting. It was a dangerous,
hellious type of fighting. So many obstacles, and around every corner
could be a sniper or a company of just waiting to kill. Damn I
wished we had the armour that was promised us by the Brigade
Commander.
I had five left in my section, and sent two around to the right
flank. I ordered two to wait and give cover fire as needed, along
with our resistance friend who was more than happy with the prospect
of killing Germans with his beat up Sten gun. Myself and Corporal
Dickson would enter the building.
As soon as the two of us began to dart across the clearing I knew it
was a mistake. I felt then heard the shots only when we were half way
through the yard. I was grazed by two bullets, yet finally shot
through the front door with barely a scratch. Looking behind me, I
saw Corporal Dickson laying upon the cobblestones, dead. My were
returning fire, yet I held little faith in that .
I was alone, with an objective ahead of me. Yet a large part of me
wanted to curl up into a ball and hide away. Thankfully my duty and
the job held my sanity together. Through several messy rooms did I
go. Moving double time, I quickly found a stair going up. That was
when I got lost! The rooms became darker, the rooms tidier, yet still
unclean. My body was exhausted, with my kit strapped to my back and
the cumbersome rifle in my hands I soon had too stop to catch my
breath. Somewhere above me someone was still firing. I had to get
the sniper, it was either him or me.
As I stood catching my breath, I suddenly heard a couple of voices,
speaking German, I caught only a word here and their, "mischbrot",
"wurstchen", "kase". If I remember correctly, they were talking about
food. Yet footsteps were coming closer. Frantically, I quickly ran
into the suite of rooms I was standing next to. I found a locked door
and effortlessly smashed through it. I stood facing the door I just
came through, the broken lock hanging limply. I followed the sound of
the voices as they went passed the place I had been standing. I heard
them going up, their jack boots making harsh noises against the tile
and wooden floors.
Taking a breath I was about to continue with my assignment. Then I
heard something, more of a whimper. I spun around, my rifle pointing
towards the sound. I saw nothing but a large desk and several chairs
and bookcases. But something had to be there!
Slowly with soft step, I came around the edge of the desk. My rifle
pointing towards the under and behind the desk, the only logical
place for a person to be. I hoped it was just a dog, or perhaps
another type of that had crawled into that small hole. Yet I
saw it! A shape! A huddled, dirty woman lay in the fetal position,
her face from me. What the hell was I to do? I bent down my
face coming closer to the desk opening. She was shivering, perhaps in
the damp morning air, or from fear. The woman only wore a thin summer
dress and heels. What was she doing here?
With a gentle hand I placed my palm upon her arm hoping I could calm
her. Here was a human being, someone that had been tormented by the
German occupation and by the Allied air strikes, how did I imagine I
could calm her. I was cover in combat gear, not a very calming sight
I'm sure. I felt her warm soft skin and she stopped shivering.
"Mlle, are you all right?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper. I
felt sick, I did not want to be there in that dirty room, with enemies
only a few feet away, while I tried to comfort a lady.
She spoke one word before looking up, "ministre?" I saw her face
slowly look out from behind the crock of her arm. I saw her pretty
round face, large scared eyes, full lips, small nose. She was very
pretty. The woman asked me a question, and I could not understand a
word. So I improvised, and told her my name, Rock, or rather my
nickname. She told me hers, yet I could not pronounce the French
version so I shortened it to Lea.
Lea took her hands and arms from her face, sitting up as much as that
large desk allowed. Then she smiled at me! So you may ask? Well,
after the deaths of friends and the agony of victory, it was almost
too much. I saw her looking at my trouble faced, and she began to cry.
No I didn't cry, but I still felt the tears running down my cheeks.
One of her hands reached out daintily and wiped the tear from my face.
I sat upon the floor next to the opening of the desk, she knelt next
to me. With a motherly compassion, she bent forward and kissed my wet
cheek, her other hand holding my face steady. God, I was confused,
was I not supposed to be the victor, the knight in shining armour?
Yet here was this tiny attractive woman who was stronger than I,
comforting me. Upon the rest of my emotions I felt shame.
Lea placed her cheek next to mine, holding me. When I finally got
hold of myself, I realized she held me in a death grip. She was not
going to let go. I turned my face towards her, our eyes only six
inches apart. "Please Mlle, I have to go. You must understand,
people are depending on me!" She closed her eyes and kissed me. This
time upon the lips, very softly and with great amount of emotion. It
was too much upon my trouble soul, and I returned the unknown woman's
kiss. Lea was patient with my hungry sadness. I forced her lips open
with my own. My tongue sliding into her mouth, finally coming in
contact with hers. My hand grasped her flimsy dress and I tore the
remaining buttons off the front, exposing her undergarments. I was
hungry for passion, for love. Yet for several years all I had known
was pain and death. The softness of a woman was almost forgotten upon
me, certainly how to touch a lady was alien was.
I stopped, thankfully before I had begun to rape her, my mind finally
taking control of my emotions. Lea surprised me, she looked me
straight in the eye with even more emotion and compassion. She took
her hands off me and began to disrobe. Off came the ripped dress, her
shoulders exposed. It hung about its cord around her waist. Then she
reached behind her and undid the clasp for her bra, the undergarments
fell to the floor next to both of us.
Lea knelt, her back straight, looking right at me. I unashamed,
looked at her exposed skin. I fell for that unknown French woman, I
could see the imperfections of her flesh, but desired all. She was a
beautiful woman who had lived through years of hell, why did she offer
me this gift? I have never known.
Slowly she grasped my free hand and brought it to her chest, my large
palm cupping the firm roundness of her breast. Her nipple began to
harden under my rough hand, reminding me of the of love I had lost
because of this war. I was almost ran out of their at that moment,
yet only her eyes held me in place. She withdrew her hand from mine,
and I felt her fumble with the front of my clothing. My webbing was
undone, then the buttons of my trousers and lower jacket. I was
conscious of my unwashed body, and almost began to laugh. To be
worried about such a thing sitting here in this ransacked building
with Germans a floor above me, and both of our bodies had not seen a
bath for many a week. I realized, finally, that the simple pleasures
of the flesh was not the reason that Lea was doing this. Perhaps,
like me, she needed to feel the closeness of another human, even with
the stench of war covering us.
A warm small hand held my hardness, forced it passed my boxer shorts
to point up out of my dishevelled clothing. I don't remember a moment
when I had been more excited, or felt closer to any person in my life.
With anxious and deliberate movements she knelt up then swung a knee
and leg over my lap. Lea moved her hanging skirt from between her
legs and reached up with one hand to move her undergarments aside.
Her other hand held my shoulder steadying herself, while her eyes
never left mine.
During that time, I had placed both hands upon her full breasts. I
marvelled in the warm softness of woman, and wanted more. Yet this
time I was patient.
Lea sighed very loudly, just as I felt her warm wetness envelope me.
She sat upon my lap, locked together by more than sex. She cupped her
breasts in her hands, pointing that perfect aureole towards my
salivating lips. I tasted her skin, reviling in the hardness beneath
my tongue. I alternated between the globes, almost not noticing her
slow movements up and down upon my shaft.
Time went slowly, our movements more urgent. My lips had left her
breasts and found her hungry mouth. Our tongues danced to the beat of
our joining. I marvelled at her wetness, wanted to see it, yet her
skirt hid everything. The moisture contained their was making erotic
wet noises. She began to moan deep down in her throat and I forced my
tongue into her mouth to silence her in the most polite way I knew
how. She accepted my gift.
Before I realized what was going on, Lea froze, with only the unknown
joined portions quivering and spasming delightfully upon me. I spent
a great tribute to this unknown woman, flooding her with my seed. She
squealed with pleasure, feeling the warm liquid hit deep inside her,
filling her up. Her hips wiggled wonderfully, bringing a groan from
my lips.
It was over.
Lea lay over me, spent as I. Slowly the sounds that surrounded us
began to reach me. I could hear the sounds of treads, the tanks that
had been promised to my section. I had to leave this woman, yet that
was the hardest thing I had yet to do in my short years. I gently
moved her off me, and told her to stay under the desk. When it was
over I would return, what then, I don't know?
I stood ready, my soul finally cured of its afflictions. Yet again,
it almost broke. The look in her eyes as I was only steps away from
the door to this room was enough to fill my heart with foreboding. I
must do my duty, if not for my commanders then for her. I would
return!
Swiftly without looking back I left her, soon finding the stairs going
up. Silently I reached the top, through the rubble I saw five Germans
smoking and laughing. One was on watch looking out the large window.
I could not understand what they said, yet I didn't care. I blamed
them for causing Lea her pain, I wanted to them. Taking careful
aim, I shot two before the others even reacted. My position upon the
stair, looking over the edge of the floor, gave me good cover. And I
was able to wound another soldier. Then the wall behind the remaining
Germans blew wards, killing them instantly and showering me with
debris. One hit me very hard and I as knocked senseless.
Confusion was what I awoke to, around me a sea of brown and green
uniforms. A doctor knelt next to my prone body, examining my head
wound. "A scratch really, though head wounds do bleed a lot." He
quickly left me to attend another fallen comrade. In only hours I was
again with my section, as they sat with the tank crew in front of that
building I knew so well. With barely a glance at my I entered the
cleared building, finding nothing.
Lea was gone!
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