Chapter Two Thousand Two Hundred Seven
6th April 1973
Tel Aviv-Yafa, Palestine (British Mandate)
SMS K24 Grindwal had been ordered to the Eastern Mediterranean after Spain and the region was just as chaotic as Louis Junior had remembered it. At the moment interest had shifted from the Adriatic Sea to the old sore spot dubbed the Holy Land, where religion had long provided an excuse for every hothead with a grudge to carry out what they probably would have done anyway. There was also the long running rivalry between the Greeks, Italians, and the British over the Mediterranean Islands. When Louis had been briefed about the current situation, it occurred to him that little had changed since he had last been in the region. Or the last few thousand years when you got right down to it.
The old seaport of Yafa had seen the coming and going of dozens of Empires during its long history, the British being just the latest. Having the Grindwal in these waters was because one of the bitter lessons that the German Empire had learned over the last several decades was that trouble in the Near East, and Balkan Peninsula had a way of becoming everyone’s problems closer to home.
Louis remembered reading articles about his great-grandfather, Wilhelm II, and the comments he made about Germany having a place in the sun. Well, after a several wars and police actions it was starting to look like they were out in the sun and getting burnt. Louis had seen as much as the Grindwal had crossed the Mediterranean and had seen the presence of the Italian Navy, the ship being shadowed as soon as they had rounded Sicily. Later, there had been a Greek ship trailing them as well. Louis had seen the two ships on the radar scope. They were lingering just on the horizon. Keeping a wary distance apart. The reason why was simple enough and it had nothing to do with Louis commanding the Grindwal for once. It had to do with the German Navy being a neutral player in a game in which there was no such thing. He remembered how inaction had basically decided the Albanian War and apparently, so did everyone else.
Now, here in Tel Aviv he was finding it difficult to push the complicated situation he had found himself in out of his mind. He had a letter from his brother that had been delivered to the Grindwal that afternoon. Michael wasn’t the most literary sort, so it was just a few lines and a few photographs of Michael, Birdie, and the newest addition to their family. It seemed that fatherhood agreed with Louis’ big brother, though he had seemed to have made a point of throwing the Press out of Castle in Prague. The letter sat on the table forgotten for the moment.
With most of the crew on liberty, Louis was in a hotel bar that was frequented by high-ranking British Officers. With Admirals, Generals, and an Administrator or two in the room, a mere Ship’s Captain didn’t draw too much attention. The place itself was like something from a James Bond Movie, though with Louis’ luck it wouldn’t be James Bond walking in and taking a seat at the bar to order his famous Martini. Instead, it would be Cosimo de’ Medici who would take a seat across the table from Louis and lecture him about how he needed enjoy the finer things in life while he was young enough to truly engage in them. He had run across the Italian troublemaker a few times now and it was always the same.
That was when he saw a face which he recognized enter the bar. It was decidedly not Cosimo, but someone else he had been running into a lot lately.
She was wearing a dress that was the latest fashion from Paris, which was exactly where she had just come from. It showed off that she had a nice figure, which was entirely the intention, she also seemed to be delighted that every eye in the room was on her.
“Wrong side of the sea, Margareta?” Louis asked as she sat down opposite of him. “Shouldn’t you be in Paris? Your University?”
“I came on a whim” Margareta said with a smile.
“No one with any sanity comes here on a whim” Louis replied, “Unless you are one of those crazy Zionists who set off a car bomb in Jerusalem last month. They seem to like it here.”
“Have you seen the beaches around here?” Margareta asked in reply, “This place has a lot going for it if they could convince tourists to come.”
Louis hadn’t paid too much attention to that with his main concern having been the harbor and the disposition of the Grindwal. Some of the men had mentioned the beaches in passing, but seedy bars that catered specially to men of their profession were more their speed.
“I’ll take your word for that” Louis replied, though Margareta was no longer paying attention. She had found the photographs that Louis had left on the table. He had heard jokes about women squeeing, referring to the noises they made. This is what Margareta was doing as she was looking at them.
“This is your new nephew?” Margareta asked, looking a picture of the baby who sleeping in the arms of Birdie. “Philipp, right?”
“Yes” Louis replied, “After his maternal grandfather.”
“What will the Lady be having?” The waiter, who had approached the table while Margareta was looking at the photographs, asked.
“I don’t know” Margareta said, “Whatever Louis is having.”
“Another sparkling water then” The waiter said before he walked off.
“Seriously?” Margareta asked.
“I like to keep my wits about me when I am in public” Louis replied.