On Her Majesty's Behalf by Joseph Nassise Page A

Corporal Manheim’s face as he stepped up next to Richthofen. “Sir?”
    Without taking his gaze off the kaiser, Richthofen drew his sidearm and handed it to the young man.
    â€œCarry out the sentence, please, Corporal.”
    Manheim took the gun and, with trembling hands, pointed it in the kaiser’s direction. Richthofen watched him closely, enjoying the mental and emotional strain he’d just placed on the other man. Humans were weak, just like the kaiser, and if Manheim wanted to be a part of Richthofen’s new world order, he was going to have to prove his support for the new kaiser.
    Starting with killing the old one.
    The only question was whether he’d have the backbone to do it.
    â€œWhat are you doing?” the kaiser shrieked at him, holding up his good hand as if to protect himself from the bullet to come. “I am the kaiser! Shoot him, not me! Shoot Richthofen!”
    Manheim’s entire body was shaking with the strain, the muzzle of the gun wavering but still pointed toward the kaiser. The corporal brought his other hand up and wrapped it around the first in an effort to hold the gun steady, but that just seemed to make it worse.
    Beside him, Richthofen leaned in close and said, “I gave you an order, Corporal, didn’t I?”
    â€œYes, sir,” Manheim gasped.
    â€œThen what are you waiting for? Carry out the sentence.”
    Richthofen leaned back, glancing past the corporal as he did so to catch Adler’s gaze with his own. He gave a slight nod. In response, the leutnant changed his stance slightly so that he was now facing the corporal rather than the senior officers at the table.
    Manheim huffed several times, trying to get up the nerve. For a moment, Richthofen thought he might find the courage, but then the man’s head dropped to his chest in shame and he lowered his arms.
    â€œI can’t, sir,” he gasped.
    Richthofen reached out and removed the gun from the young man’s hands. “Leutnant Adler?”
    Adler barked an order and the troops lined up in a semicircle around the table where the kaiser and his companions were having lunch and opened fire as one. The roar of their Mausers filled the room as bullets slammed into the three men at the table, making their bodies dance and jitter under the impact. Blood flew and the stench of cordite filled the air.
    Richthofen watched it all with delight.
    He let the shooting continue for another moment, then raised a hand, signaling the others to stop.
    Wilhelm, Ludendorff, and Von Hindenburg were all slumped across the table, unmoving, their bodies covered in blood.
    In the sudden silence Richthofen turned to Corporal Manheim, raised the pistol, and shot him in the head, splattering the soldier standing behind him with a mixture of blood, brains, and bone fragments.
    As the corporal’s body slumped at his feet, Richthofen handed the pistol to Adler.
    The kaiser is dead, thought Richthofen. Long live the kaiser!

 
    Chapter Eleven

    Port of Le Havre
    France
    T HE CONVOY B URKE and the Marauders had been ordered to catch consisted of four two-­ton lorries packed full of salvaged scrap metal and a Model T Ford ambulance with several medical evacuees bound for the USS Nightingale, a hospital ship docked in Le Havre that would eventually take them back across the Atlantic and home to the States.
    After arriving at the staging area, Burke checked in with the captain in charge of the convoy, offering to have his men take their turns at watch along the way. He knew the planned route would take them through Paris to Rouen and then on to Le Havre. At no time would they cross into German-­held territory, but they would be traveling very close to the front for much of the way and would most likely come under attack of one kind or another at some point. The captain was all too happy to add several more rifles to the convoy defense should they need them and stationed Burke and his men in the