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Abuelito Jotheph gave a brief explanation of "Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" to Dr. Jenkins, then added,"But you're counterpart does not go by the title of 'Hyde', now does he?"
"No.... he uses another name..." the Dr. Sadly confessed. "SAUCY JACK!"- it was Abuelita Bethie who yelled the accusation. The others looked confused- except Abuelito Jotheph. He nodded at Abuelita and said to the others in explanation one thing that stunned the room. "Jack the Ripper, I believe?" All stared in shocked silence at the man before us, as a mystery that had baffled criminologists for half a century now lay before us in full explanation. This was why he was never caught- he wasn't one man, but two.... and the inspiration of Robert Louis Stevenson's greatest short story. Yet this gentle soul in front of me had just saved a human life, and didn't seem capable of insulting anybody, much less committing murder. He looked back at us all with a sadness I couldn't quite fathom... until I considered the crimes he might well remember, the murders, dissection of the corpses ... and wondered how one could bear such knowledge. "Do you know where you are?" asked Abuelito. The Dr. Looked around, and (for the first time) seemed a bit confused about his surroundings. "In a tent of some sort- other than that I suspect the REAL question is WHEN am I? I have seen a few things here that are far in advance of what I am accustomed to- I do not claim to be on the edge of such things, but what I've seen here is truly advanced," "Correct, Doctor-" then he turned on me- "What exactly is this machine, sir... and why do you and your comrade come here by it?" Abuelito now has his full focus on me. The last time this happened, it concerned a broken cookie jar in their home. I don't really remember how old I was, only that I was very little when I got into the cookie jar and dropped it, scattering parts and cookies all over the floor. The house was full of grandchildren and great grand children so I slid out of the kitchen. He ferreted me out in half a moment when he could smell guilt nowhere else. I know now that he was telepathic... the word wasn't known in this time, and certainly was not known by my parents. Papa told me that Abuelito had the 'inner eye'- that was all I knew back then. Right now, that 'inner eye' was focussed on me. Just as before, I felt him reaching inside my head... just like when I broke the cookie jar... just as before, there was nothing I could do about it... images of my briefing, the warning, second Bull Run, the cookie jar, my unfed cat... it all tumbled out without any control. When he finished, he stood back and looked at me, slightly aghast. "Wells....?" It was the Sargent who spoke. He looked expectantly at Abuelito. This would be T.SGT Howard, who was to die later on this day. He was not quite what I expected... I suspect Abuelito was being kind. This man had a greasy feel to him, something I was quite accustom to in my line of work- don't put your whole faith in this fellow until you know his motivation... and even then, keep a tight hand on your wallet. "Corporal Wells...? What's this rascal about?" ... it seemed the Sgt knew about Abuelito's gift. Abuelito looked from me to his Sgt. There was a long pause before he said, "They're from the future, skipper- this man is my great-grandson. He is also a Fed from the Bureau. He didn't expect to show up here- he's chasing the other fellow who is some sort of master criminal. The machine allows time travel... Dr. Jenkins here is from the late 19th century London... Whitechapel district, I suspect. When...(here he glanced at me) Nurse Stokes... stated she needed a Neurosurgeon, he obliged... reasons... unknown... this device is voice activated and controlled... but not exactly precise... extremely experimental... very dangerous..." "This guy is yer great-grandson? And FBI?!? And I've been introduced to Jack the Ripper... Damn, Joe, that takes th' cake! OK!!! YOU!!!" Now the Sgt. Rounded on me- "Do we get the details without trouble? Or do we have our professional team find things out?" I spoke up immediately- "I will co-operate with you, but I must ask that I eventually be allowed to take the other man back to our time to face justice. I realise that I am in poor position to demand, but this man cannot be allowed loose in your time or anybody else's. I can only tell you that this man has his own designs on history, and exactly what they are I am not certain," "What's yer name, Mack?" "Sam- Sam Havana... and YOU'RE Sgt. Howard. That's Captain Billings on the ground over there, Nurse Stokes, THIS man is PFC Storey, the Big Brit is Bill Sykes, then the three Guhrkas are the Bahti brothers and a cousin who's name I forgot, the man with the long face is William Sullivan, who everybody calls 'Sad Sack', THIS man is Ezekiel McCrary..." "OK- good enough- Joe, you work with yer... great-grandson... and figure out what that character is up to- I need to figure out what we're t' do with th' good Doctor here..." then he turned to me-"we'll have to see- there's this war going on, see- it kinda makes things a bit hard t' predict," McCrary... that's the name of 'Li'l Abner ... came with Abuelito and I as we found a bed to sit down on as we came to terms. His first question caught me by dead surprise- quietly he asked me, "so...Sam, is it?... WILL Elizabeth and I marry?" I was thunderstruck! Here was my Abuelito... a stern, demanding authority to my memory... yet here was a man younger than I, a mere Corporal and a bachelor, not certain of his own future or the that of the woman he loves. Abuelita must have some feelings or thoughts about this man, but right now there is only the anxiety of not knowing who was going to live, much less knowing who was going to fall in love. "Uh... yes... it was in your kitchen that I was caught having broken the cookie jar. Abuelita plead clemency on my behalf, but you wanted discipline in your family. Finally, you relented... at least, that's what I remember happening. I have no idea if that's what's happened now... we have already changed history. You have told me about this day many times- you are about to search out Field Marshal Von Kluge... of the whole crew, only YOU come back alive... even General Patton gets killed," This caught him by surprise- "how do you know we have changed history?" he asked. "Moose- PFC Moss- he was killed in the ambush. Yet, HE'S not going out on this patrol, is he?" Abuelito looked around as Abuelita finished wrapping the bandages on Moose's head. No, Moose would not be on duty for this patrol... some other unlucky soul would sit in the co-driver's seat and catch the full brunt of the ambush... assuming the patrol went out to search for the Field Marshal. "OK- You've sold me. Tell me about this ambush," I gave Abuelito the details as best as I could remember- the treachery of the 12th SS, the slaughter of the prisoners in the name of 'justice' and the way the Commandant made such a show of personally finishing off General Patton with his own pistol. "This device," he asked, nodding towards the PADAT- "is his only contact with his own time? Or any time?" "Yes," I responded, "... and he will come back here for it, no doubt. If we let him believe that we've gone about our task, he might suspect that the devices are still here under lesser guard. I don't know if he will fall for something so obvious, but then he will be desperate to have it," "They wuz in contact wi' enemy onced me un' Sack found 'em," commented McCrary, "Ah heard some pops outta his greaser," "Really? Is that what that thing is? What colour was the piping and what sort of litzen or tabs were they wearing?" I tried to remember- "Orange-Gold piping on the shoulder straps- I'm pretty sure he was SS" "Recon- I would guess they've got a pretty good set of OPs going on with this position. Yes, if we pulled out, they would notice- which means we ought to do it soon before your Criminal can re-organise them to counter-attack... what's his name, this fellow you're chasing?" "Von Schuller- he's a Baron, supposedly... not certain that it's true," "His Prussian is that of a blue blood- I would suspect that to be the case. They would likely come up through the marshlands, if that is their objective. I think a simple double-back will be quite telling," He then turned to Sgt. Howard- "Sgt- what do we know about our Doctor friend here?" Dr. Jenkins looked a bit sad to have been 'found out'- Abuelita was looking at him with both scorn and fear. "I suppose you really must know- there's no sense in hiding any further," he finally said in response to our collective curiosity... "I hardly know where to begin," "Start at the beginning, then when you reach the end- stop," Abuelito said quietly. Dr. Jenkins smiled at the Lewis Carroll reference. "When I set up my practice, the first thing I noticed was the abysmal state of affairs... quite literally... regarding the working class families. Whole families struck with the same wretched diseases that only the Father brought home. Children born blind or crippled... or worse. Young wives bearing a vile illness that their loving husbands brought home from the working girls of Whitechapel and going mad or sterile or both without knowing the name of their damnation... and should they know, spend the rest of their short, wretched lives in shame. I had enough of this... especially after I became aware that the wives of Constables were not immune to this outrage- THIS told me that the illicit trade went on with police sanction. I had taken it upon myself to find an elixir that would bring about a transformation, a true remedy for the low nature of man. The idea was simple enough- elevate the moral and reduce the animal nature of the species. Of course, I did my experiments upon myself, as would any man of my trade... unfortunately, all I found was that the dual nature of man could be SEPARATED, but never PURIFIED. Instead of eliminating my base nature, I congealed it into an alter persona, one who had little or no regard to the law, the welfare of others..." " One who killed for entertainment?!?" spat Abuelita- The Doctor looked shocked-" ...no... no, you do not understand. I cannot condone what I have done under the influence of the serum, but what outraged ME also outraged JACK! Jack did what he did to SCARE the prostitutes out of Whitechapel and HUMILIATE the police!" "Sooo... Jack was on a mission, was he?... oddly enough, that explains quite a bit," commented Abuelito. Abuelita was somewhat shocked at this rather casual attitude about the 'Ripper', but he went on-"No, really- if you think about it, for the first time we have what would qualify as a true motive. And the motive fits the modus operandi, unlike the many theories that have been applied to the case. AND it was assumed that Jack had medical training, as his work was of dissection, NOT mere violent slashings..." "Really there, Corporal... I had no idea you worked with Scotland Yard on this.." commented the Sgt. With a big grin, "...regardless, we ain't turning THIS one in," Everybody looked at him, and (except for Abuelito) looked stunned by this. "Aw, C'mon! 'Jack th' damn Ripper' shows up... what? Fifty? Sixty years after th' fact... outta some glowing door that disappears after you walk through it from a machine that take dictation and turns it into action because my corporals' GREAT GRANDCHILD... who, incidently, has spent more time shavin' than YOU, Joe... tells it to?!? GIMMEADAMNBREAK!!!! We'd ALL be section eight in no time flat," he spent a moment considering this before he continued, "...y'know, on the other hand, section eight ain't such a bad deal...." "Sarge....?" came the low, rumbling voice of Moose, "how bad off am I? Just I keep hearing y'all talk about this feller like he's Jack the Ripper, and I KNOWS that ain't right..." I now remember a comment from long ago.... "Moose was a gentle soul who had a hard time catching the downbeat," and stifled a laugh. "So... what year IS this? You said Fifty or sixty years after the fact... nineteen thirty something-or-other or is it more nineteen fortyish? And why are all of you in military trim?" "1944.. ("Good God! Really?") yes, and we- that is, America, England and France, well we're at war with Germany. Right now, we're just outside of Nantes, France- the Germans had occupied France and we're in the process of giving it back to them," stated Abuelito. "The crown of Germany has raised arms against his own Grandmother, the Queen?," Dr. Jenkins said in an astonished voice. "What? Adolf Hitler is the Grandson of the Queen?" came the singsong voice of Baldhir Bahti, to which Bill Sykes, Sgt. Howard and Abuelito started laughing. Abuelita even giggled a bit at this. Then came McCrary's response of "What Queen?" and even Sullivan cracked a smile at that. About this time, a grunt from the corner of the tent told us that Captain Billings had regained his senses and was trying to get up and assess the situation- apparently, he was unaware that he had passed out (or was unwilling to address the fact)- as he called out, "Sgt. Howard- a word please," "Yessir" The gist of the conversation between them caught Captain Billings up to speed and cancelled the quest for von Kluge- certainly the interloper who got away had ruined any security the effort had to begin with... within minutes, Sgt Howard had the captain convinced of the double-back approach to getting the fellow back into custody so completely that Captain Billings started talking like it was his own idea. "But what about the time machine thing? Couldn't we use it to get the advantage on the Germans somehow?" he asked. "No," I firmly responded, even though I was not part of the conversation. The captain seemed a bit startled by my presumption, so I introduced myself. " Sam Havana, Federal Bureau of Investigation. I'm from the future, Sir- this device is experimental and quite dangerous- we , that is, I really don't know what can happen when we change history. And yet, we've already changed it near as I can tell. I do know this much- try to rendevous with von Kluge, and General Patton will likely not survive. I need to catch this man, von Schuller, and bring him back to our time for justice so he quits messing with your time," "What can possibly go wrong? If we know where the Germans or your criminal are sometime prior, we can travel back there and intercept them," came the response. "And if you MEET with yourselves IN THAT TIMELINE and get yourselves OF THAT TIMELINE KILLED, you set yourselves up for the time-traveller's quandary- how can you intervene when you've killed yourself off prior to involvement? For that matter, if a man goes back in time and causes his Grandfather to die, does he cease to exist once he returns to his own time? Or does he cease to exist immediately? Or does he simply return to a time that has no record of him?" ... amazing... I never thought reading science fiction had any practical value until now. The captain went silent- certainly he had never been given questions of this magnitude before- his mouth kept opening and closing, but nothing came out. "You see, Sir, there are many dangers to this business that the Baron does not even consider worthy of his concern... dangers that are easy to ignore until they happen. Even now, the Baron managed to miscalculate his entry and in the process lost control over the PADAT AND the PIG. The lot of you thinking that there's any advantage to using these things in any way is only one step away from disaster. You want to use this to second guess the Germans? What happens when you wind up in their midst like the Baron did with us? You wind up dead or a prisoner, and the Germans wind up with the PADAT. And if they take you alive, the SS gets to find out how much you know about this thing- and as I recall, they are not easily sold on "I don't know,". Now... if you feel that you can handle the use of this device, by all means proceed... I will not try to stop you. Just remember there are more dangers that even I am not aware of." Should I, in my journeys, encounter Isaac Asminoff, I need to thank the man profusely... The OP watched in silence as the Americans gathered on the small panzer and left the hospital compound. A Small contingency of military stayed behind, doubtless to guard the new 'wonder weapon' that the stranger had spoke of. There was a female there- a nurse, it appeared, of the British variety in their dirt-coloured dungarees and whitecap- she was staying behind. One squad of soldaten on a light panzer, bearing in the direction of the appointed rendevous with the traitor von Kluge, leaving perhaps four or five soldaten to keep watch over this device that will win the war... are Americans really this stupid? Well, they send sacrificial tanks to battle our Tigers and Panthers... the trouble is they send more than we can destroy. As quietly as possible, 'Klaus sent his report back over the field phone to his Gruppenfuehrer and awaited further instruction. He did not wait long- the whole of the battalion was infiltrating through the marsh to his position- he was to join in the general assault. Prisoners and material were to be taken at all costs- after all, we need the wonder weapon and people who know how to operate it. And there is a man in grey civilian clothes- he is to be shot immediately. Well, I guess we'll see if this is more smoke and wind like the last few empty promises 'Klaus thought to himself as he shifted his MP to a comfortable position and checked the fill of the magazine. Moments later, he heard the ruckus of the battalion creeping through the marsh- my God, they sound like an army of tinkers! More noise and the allies will be tracking them from across the channel! Mess tins ought to be stowed for a silent assault, but try to tell that to the high command! Soon Dieter and Werner crept into his cover with the MG 34- the three of them would provide cover fire for the whole enterprise. Well, why not? It's an excellent position and they can pull up and advance once the main body has taken the objective... really a cush job for an assault. Dieter has an extra Mauser and patronen for 'Klaus, so he can deliver beyond the puny range of his MP 40- fairly important, as he will be suppressing any return fire at a distance greater than 9mm can muster. All was settling in well without violation of cover- these men are veterans, after all- when the disturbance appeared... the creature in frock and top hat with an inhuman face and a straight-edged razor. With a noticeably British accent, he gave cheerful greetings before his assault. First Werner, then Dieter rolled over, clutching their gushing throats, unable to make any noise above a gurgle. 'Klaus reached for his MP 40, but the creature was too quick- 'Klaus's hand fell from his wrist. It didn't even hurt to lose the hand- how odd thought 'Klaus as he felt the sharp sting across his own throat, telling him that his own life had come to an end. His last images of this world were of the creature, who most certainly wasn't human, alight with glee as he silently left the enclosure of the OP and went off in the general direction of the upcoming assault. "Has anybody seen Dr. Jenkins?" asked Sgt. Howard quietly as he surveyed the members of the repulse squad. Several blank stares told him the answer... the Doctor had flown the coop. He asked me if I knew anything about it... of course I didn't, so I was no help to him. "Well, agent Havana- now we have TWO criminals from another time loose in 1944! THIS on top of ol' 'Blood & Guts' NOT being able t' contact a German Field Marshal who wants t' surrender... well, I hope your guess is correct... actually, my gunner here seems t' think this is what we need to be doing and I have learned t' not argue with him if I can avoid it. Maybe we can make contact AFTER we clean up this mess. Any idea about how many we are facing?" "Sorry Sargent, not the first clue on that," I responded. "We'll be fine, Skipper," Abuelito assured him, "those obsolete rounds we have been saving will turn the tide," "Canister?! Well, Joe- I'm guessing you know something I don't. I just can't see 'em making an assault without armour or some other form of support. At th' very least, I'm willing t' bet they got a squad o' mortars stowed around somewhere once we declare ourselves," "They can only approach without being seen thru the marsh- all their tactics will revolve around light infantry. Our position here will tie them off as they make for the open while our secondary will choke them off from the back. With any amount of good luck, the first two rounds out of the main will have them convinced they are up against superior forces while our secondary prevents an escape to the rear. They won't go further into the marsh due to the quicksand- all around, they will have put themselves into a pretty corner when they take the bait," "That's IF they take th' ... hol' on.." ...here the Sargent reached back to the radio... "... Yes baker dog this is easy red, over... can you confirm?... transport?... roger that, proceed with 'Gypsy Circus', over... and out..." the Sargent took a moment to collect his thoughts- "well gentlemen, our secondary has reported battalion strength activity in the marsh now before them... a BATTALION! ... and no vehicles of any stripe!" he turned to me as he said, "good call, Sam- we'll make yeh proud. Joe here can do bank shots with the main..." To be honest, I'm not sure what that means... but it does sound impressive. Up and down the line, men prepared for the coming confrontation... last checks on positions, weapons, field of fire, cover and good luck charms all in progress as the edge of the marsh was kept in view. There seemed to be some sort of activity RIGHT on the very edge at one point... but whatever it was, it was momentary... perhaps some animal, sensing something was up and deciding not to participate... besides, there wasn't enough time for it to be the main body. There was nothing left but to wait... We didn't wait long. First one, then two and three angular helmets poked out of the green growth, nervously checking the way for the rest of the party. A small gathering, then a sudden rush, about a platoon's worth, made for the tent. Finding the tent empty with the odd briefcase-like device inside, they gave a whistle and the marsh haemorrhaged field-grey as the rest of the party came out from under cover. That's when the main gun barked. About two-score men fell, half screaming the other half still. The main barked again- and again a large section of men were mutilated by a 37mm shotgun. I heard the breech chunk another round, this time accompanied by rifle fire as the men put their Garands to the task at hand. The area in front of me was a killing field- there was death aplenty for all concerned. To my observation, not one German had the presence of mind to return fire... at least, not one caught in the open. In a few moments, the edge of the marsh blossomed out with gunfire as rifles and machineguns returned fire, leaving the dead and dying out in the open. Several CHUNK!s behind me announced our mortar fire, and large pieces of marsh edge flew into the air... with pieces of bodies intermingled. 'Tin Lizzie'... that's the name of Abuelito's tank... pulled out into the open with two BAR men riding shotgun as well as McCrary with his Garand. Another man from the 29th was playing a fine hornpipe on the .30 caliber MG while Sgt. Howard was providing harmony with the M-2 that somebody engineered onto the turret. Suddenly, I was called to the top by Abuelito- he handed me a pair of binoculars and pointed towards a slight rise in the back of the marsh. I put the optics to my eyeballs and saw a violent argument between von Schuller and what I would take to be the Commandant of the 12th SS. "That's your man, right?" he yelled thru the din of battle I nodded to him- not sure he would hear me. He then pulled McCrary over- there was a bit of a conversation between them, then McCrary drew a bead and dropped two rounds. There was further commentary, and Abuelito told me, "We 'pinked' him a bit, but he'll live," "You have betrayed us all, damn you!!!" screamed the Commandant at von Schuller as the whole assault turned into a fiasco- ".. My command is bleeding away in front of me!!! I don't know who you are, but you're too good to be allowed to live!!!". With these words, he reached for his P-38 while the trembling baron tried to plead and argue the situation. "This is NOT where they should have been!! I am even more surprised than you!!! No! Please!!! I can make good on this, I can win this situation if ONLY WE GET THE COMPUTER!!! "I HAVE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR LIES!!!"- the Walther was now pointed at von Schuller's head, the trigger was being squeezed... then a shot rang out and the Commandant twitched before he collapsed in front of the Baron. Shocked at what had happened, von Schuller couldn't understand why he himself suddenly fell over. Only when he looked at the offending leg and see the blood did he realise that he had been shot as well... and that it hurt... The pandemonium of battle was at full pitch when I saw our errant Doctor... except that he wasn't the Doctor anymore. Dancing gleefully thru the battle and delivering death in a personal manner with what appeared to be an edged device, slashing left right and indifferent, Jack the Ripper was amongst the enemy and seemed to be in his element. The Germans could not seem to draw a bead on him without being shot by our troops- the few times a bullet WAS directed at him he dodged as skilfully as a fly from a slow swatter. The Guhrkas stood and bowed to him once they saw what he was doing- they made reference to 'the dance of Kali' as they gave reverence. Then it came. It had to come, actually. One shot struck home. To be honest, I'm not sure it was from them or us. He went rigid, then toppled over... right about the time the first pair of hands went up. Funny thing about surrender- once the first man surrenders, others start to think it's a good idea. It gets contagious, very contagious very quickly. One pair goes up, another follows... soon the gunfire ceases and you have a large group of men who are just plain tired of fighting. In seven minutes time, the remains of the Battalion were prisoner to a platoon of recon... with one casualty. I was part of the group that found Jack. He had a sucking chest wound that went through and looked dangerously close to the heart. Amazingly, he seemed in good spirits for so terrible a wound. "Rather a dangerous place, this is... a fellow could get himself killed if he were not careful," he commented as his wound was assessed. One would think he was commenting about a cricket match for his tone. He was sent back to the tent and I went on to assess the Baron. Von Schuller may be many things... but he is a lousy patient. Something of a wuss, the truth be known. He had a minor flesh wound of the thigh, McCrary's handiwork as I had seen- doubtless it was painful, but for the noise the Baron made over it you would think he was giving birth to a thirty pound porcupine. It was embarrassing to be near him. That evening, with a multitude of German wounded in the tent and an even bigger number marching to our rear under guard, Sgt. Howard told me that Patton himself would be here in the morning to assess what's to be done about me, the Baron and 'this infernal machine' as Sargent Howard called it. The fact that I led them to the near annihilation of the 12th SS with one casualty... and that casualty wasn't even one of our own... put a bit of gravity to my argument regarding what is to be done here. I hoped he was right. I then wandered over towards our casualty... where I overheard the most remarkable conversation between Jack the Ripper and Baron von Schuller- ".... but a fellow with your talents and abilities... think about it! I could give you freedom to BECOME the law!!! To enforce the law as YOU saw fit!!! The possibilities..." "You tire me with your mindless drivel," interrupted 'Jack', "... you make three false assumptions in your offer- first, you assume that I, like you, lust after power... I assure you I do not... while you seek to rule your world, I simply seek to make mine cleaner than I find it... if that means removal of prostitutes or huns, so be it... I see little difference, filth is filth no matter what it calls itself... secondly, you assume that I would ever whore myself to a cowardly, snivelling, spineless worm of a pimp as yourself... yes, I know what you are sir and you make my flesh crawl... I would sooner serve the houses of ill repute than to take up your banner or even admit that I know you... and finally, you assume that my wound is not mortal... you couldn't be more wrong... that I have lived THIS long is only a testimony to my will... I do not fear death, but somehow I felt I had one last task to perform. Now, I have done that... and I pray there is enough wit in the filth before me for you to gain wisdom... goodbye..." With that, Doctor Thomas Jenkins of Sidewell Row London, AKA Saucy Jack or Jack the Ripper, breathed his last... leaving the Baron to contemplate his final words. I walked over to check on 'Jack', only to find he had returned to his original form... the gentle, Victorian surgeon of London who only sought to make his world better and in the process unleashed a monster that would tantalize criminologists for generations to come. That Jack the Ripper left his world the year he made himself known, only to die in France in 1944 with no time in between, guaranteed that the mystery would remain unsolved. That he died fighting against an enemy of the Crown would have astonished most... but then again Abuelito pointed out that his motive was never understood until now. I sat down on the Dr.'s bed and studied him for a moment. He seemed at peace... finally... "Do you know who he was?" I asked the Baron. "Arrogant... a talented fighter, no doubt, but arrogant as I have ever seen," "Really? Including yourself?" He gave me a dark look- then he asked, "...how did the facial change occur? Just now, as he died...? I've never seen anything like that happen outside of the movies..." "He was a Doctor of the 1880's who dabbled in serums to create a better humanity, only to split the soul into lawful and unlawful..." "Havana, I have no patience with your droll humour at this time..." "I'm not joking, Baron- this man is at once the inspiration for Stevenson's "Strange case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" and a real- life criminal... this man is... was ... Jack the Ripper..." His one eye bore into me to discern the truth... "JACK the RIPPER?!? How did he get here? Wait... YOU!! YOU pulled him here with the PADAT?!? WHY??? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?!?" "We needed a surgeon... a neurosurgeon... I guess I should have been a bit more specific..." The Baron gaped at me for about one-and-a-half heartbeats... "Yes, I suppose so... THAT was... ' JACK'... that I was speaking to...?" "Yes- the corpse is that of Dr. Thomas Jenkins," Von Schuller stared intently at the Dr., as if trying to take it all in. That's when I noticed his face- minor discolouration and no swelling whatsoever. I wanted to ask how this could be until I noticed the mild red circles at critical locations- leeches. Yea, I wouldn't doubt some German Sanitat popped a few leeches on his face to put it back to rights- wouldn't be unheard of, even in 1944. By tomorrow there would be little evidence to the injuries he had suffered this morning. With a deep sigh, he asked, " so now what are we to do?" "We will get a good night's sleep... well, as good as you can get being manacled to the bed... and then, tomorrow, we shall see what happens... I for one want to get home... I didn't get a chance to feed my cat, you see..." He looked at me with his good eye as if trying to decipher some mysterious code in my words... but all he found was face value. Then he settled back into his mind, contemplating (I suspect) the last demeaning words of 'Saucy Jack'... imagine getting a lecture on ethics by Jack the Ripper, ESPECIALLY if it rings true! It was late afternoon when I was giver a 'K' ration package- it was worse than an MRE, but it was the first food I'd had since I can't recall. I swapped the smokes for two coco pouches and mixed it all up in a German mess tin... there was enough of them lying around without owners... it was 'sure enough' Hershey's Chocolate, and with a bit of the coffee creamer almost made up for the wallpaper paste stew. Then I got to sleep, a luxury I had not had in too long... The next morning, all was abuzz- old "Blood & Guts" himself, General George Patton, was to be here shortly to look at this 'gizmo' his boys had 'found' and hopefully understand that this was beyond his capacity to work with and turn me loose to my own time... OK, so I'm optimistic. More than likely he would attempt to control the thing and REALLY screw things up... but you never know until it happens. The Baron had spent most of his time quiet and sullen... I wonder how much sting there was in the final words of a mass murderer telling him, "...yes, I know what you are, sir... AND YOU MAKE MY FLESH CRAWL..." ... I wish I had a tape of that... The tank crew and recon squad as well as Team 24 were all spruced up and waiting... Captain Billings was a nervous as if he were getting married... Abuelito and Abuelita would have quick, quiet moments together in hushed tones, Sykes and Moose were discussing interrogation ("Looky 'ere, mate- Oi don't likes t' t'ump 'em ennymor'n ennyone else... but th' trut' o' th' matter his t'is- we GOTS t' foinds out whut t'ey do er dun't know, y' see? An' we hain'ts gots th' toim t' be noice habaouts hit..."), Sullivan was... well, Sullivan.... McCrary was in good spirits ("Ah doan' gets t' sees a GENERAL every day, y' knows,") and others were dealing or not dealing with their nerves as they saw fit... quite amusing, actually... when the Baron requested the use of the latrine... in a civil tone, at that. Mulligan went over to the bed with the key, Sgt. Harris at his side to provide escort. He seemed a different man, a changed man at that time. Everybody sensed it. He got as far as the prep table where Abuelita was wrapping an amputation set when he snatched up the big amputation knife, grabbed Abuelita and held her with the blade at her throat. "Now we play the game my way," he snarled. Abuelito had his .45 levelled at the man's face faster than the eye could follow, but it was a stand-off. Abuelita could still die in his death-throws. Sgt. Howard also had his gun drawn, but not levelled. Several Garands now had the bolts slam home as their owners picked them up and prepared for challenge. "Bring me my clothes!! RIGHT NOW, or the lady gets returned to you piece by piece!" "Ought to be interesting, Baron- how do you intend to put them on while holding a knife on the Nurse?" I commented. "YOU will dress me, after you give me back my weapon. THEN I will need the PADAT and the PIG... again, you will follow my instructions." "I see Jack's words had no meaning to you after all, eh? You are supposed to be some sort of genius, Baron- I have to admit I am disappointed," "ENOUGH WORDS!!! DO AS I SAY OR BLOOD WILL SPILL!!!" It was pretty tense to say the least... everybody was waiting for something to happen, just what that something might be could be anybody's guess. Abuelita was at first frightened, but slowly I saw rage creeping into her face... not a good sign. The clothes and his pistol were brought in, I did as I was told while the sharp edge of the knife tickled Abuelita's throat, then the 'infernal machines' were brought into the tent. The Baron had me strap them onto him just as I heard a jeep pull up outside. "Now, Havana- we part company for good," snarled the Baron as he raised his silenced pistol at my head. "WHAT THE #&*%$!!! IS GOING ON HERE?!?!?!" came a remarkably squeaky voice from the other side of the tent. General George Patton, in all his puffed-up glory, now stood in the entrance of the tent, trying to make heads or tails out of the situation. "Computer! Open a corridor to Liege, Belgium, December 31st, 1942," bellowed the Baron. "PUT THAT KNIFE DOWN AND UNHAND THAT NURSE, YOU SORRY SOB!!!"... you know, he really didn't sound at all like George C. Scott. The voice was rather reedy, "DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN GET AWAY WITH THIS?!??" "Oh shut up you arrogant ass," replied the Baron as the computer responded- "Searching... acquired... location approximate... corridor opening now..." Once more, the door opened into time and the Baron took a peek over his shoulder to confirm it... swift as thought itself, Abuelita spun and knee'd the Baron dead in the groin, slapped him twice across the face, took the knife from him and kicked him in the gut... right into the doorway... right into time itself... once more, he escaped into the matrix. I picked up my Uzi and went to follow him, when the General stopped me- for such a weak voice, the man had a firm grip and the arm to back it. "You're agent Havana, I assume?," "Yes sir- please I don't know how long that door will stay open and I need to follow that man..." "Just one moment- I will keep this brief. You might need this someday..." and with that, he pulled out a sheaf of paper and pen and quickly jotted down this note- I, Lt. General George S. Patton, do hereby declare this man, Samuel Havana, to be an agent of the United States Government. He is to be given any help and consideration that he requires in pursuit of a German agent named Baron von Schuller. I can and will personally vouch for this man, Lt.General George S. Patton 16 August, 1944 "Sgt. Howard here gave me the lowdown before I came- I'll be honest, I thought the lot of you had gone 'round the twist on me... but after I saw that... that, DOORWAY there, well I guess I've got to admit that it's true. Kinda sad we didn't get to make that gizmo do a few tricks for us, but I suppose it's better this way. Now quick, Agent Havana- you gotta get your man. Use this note wherever you see fit... of course, if you use it BEFORE this date, I'll call you a liar and have you shot! Just keep that in mind... NOW GO!!!" I snapped off a salute that he returned, then bolted through the doorway- my last image of August 1944 was of Joe Wells and Beth Stokes, Abuelito and Abuelita holding each other just aside the door. They both watched as I left their time in pursuit of the man who had threatened my very existence without knowing it. Once more, I fell into the strange, living vortex that is time... Von Kluge never did surrender or make contact- he was called to Hitler's HQ to answer charges of treason when reports of allied radio traffic asking about him was brought to Der Fuhrer's attention. He sent a letter declaring the futility of Hitler's orders and committed suicide on the 19th. General Patton lived through the war and became instrumental in many instances where the allied high command did not try to hamper him... his suspicious death at the end of the war still raised several eyebrows but was never fully explained. The massive counter-offensive in Belgium never did take place, as many of the SS units that were instrumental in the push were decimated in what became known as the 'Falaise Pocket'- the capture of troops and material became the ruin of Germany's war effort... nearly everything started downhill from that point on. Model replaced von Kluge as CIC west and returned moral back to functional levels just as Montgomery got enough nerve to employ a hair-brained scheme he had been plotting for some time, one that he originally christened "Comet" as an attack on V-2 launch sites in Holland (and a chance to out-shine General Patton), got a full make over and the title of "Market Garden" in it's final form. While an allied failure, it did quite a bit to weaken the German forces and keep their high command jumpy about everything that the allies were doing. The final German push, an attempt to regain control over Antwerp, came in December of 1944 as German 'super tanks' came through the Ardennes Forrest and were brought to a halt at a sleepy little crossroads called Bastogne by members of the 82nd and 101st airborne battalions. Stopped dead in the water by stubborn resistance of a surrounded enemy and a lack of fuel, it withered on the vine but not before the massacre of American POWs by the SS just outside of Malmady. Instead of prolonging the war by another year, Adolf Hitler took cyanide and popped a bullet into his head on the 29th of April, 1945. The Atomic bomb that devastated Berlin never fell... but the two that hit Japan went right on schedule. The Concentration camps were found, emptied and documented... early enough that there were far more survivors than before, including one Simon Rosenthal who became instrumental in the hunting down and capture of ex- Nazi war criminals. Werner von Braun was captured alive by the west and became instrumental in the American Space program, in spite of his whitewashed Nazi party affiliation- we did land on the moon 'within the decade,' as promised by President John F. Kennedy instead of late 1973. On the home front, Joseph Abraham Wells married Elizabeth Cantrell Sibley-Stokes on June 12th, 1946 in a rather robust ceremony in Cipio Indiana. Gregory Peyton (ex Master Sargent) Howard was the best man- his wife Annie was also present, also present were BJ (ex Staff Sgt.) and Katherine Storey, Jonathan Stanton ('Moose',ex SFC) and Jeanie Moss, William (ex Major)and Fluerette Sykes, William Patrick ('Sad Sack', ex Staff Sgt.) and Bridget Sullivan and Ezekiel Moses (ex. Sgt.) and Jenny Bell McCrary. Joseph became the local Methodist Minister, FINALLY putting his masters in theology to good use, in spite of the fact that the Army never recognised that they had an ordained minister serving the main gun of a tank. Abuelito left the service as a Sargent First Class... when he should have entered as a First Lieutenant. He would often hunt and fish with his sons and daughters, taught them all wood writing and scriptures and lived to a very ripe old age along with his beloved wife. When he finally died of stroke, Abuelita only lingered by a matter of weeks before she joined him. There were 48 direct decedents at the funerals... myself included. author's notes; There is ample evidence that von Kluge DID in fact attempt to contact Patton on August 15th, 1944 but nothing in the way of absolute proof. The particulars are fuzzy, but he was replaced with Model and ordered to meet with Hitler regarding several issues with his command. Von Kluge was one of the few plotters in the bomb attempt on Hitler to escape the purge that followed- further scrutiny on Hitler's part would have found him out- his taking cyanide on the 19th was likely the only reasonable exit he saw at the time. Why the meeting never took place is not really known- I personally suspect that the 12th SS had put a recon 'tag' on von Kluge's staff car and had a squad observe from a distance... and that American recon spotted the ' shadow'. The 12th SS never did trust von Kluge, and would have very likely had a response team on call to ambush the whole party The Whitechapel Murders occurred in 1886. Five women are firmly believed to be victims of 'Jack the Ripper' while about four others are believed to be 'copycat' murders. "Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" was written by Robert Louise Stevenson in 1884... TWO YEARS prior to the murders in question- there is NO WAY that 'Saucy Jack' (as he called himself- 'Jack the Ripper' was an invention of the papers) could have inspired Louise (as he was known to his intimate friends... which included a good number of doctors, as the man had haemorrhagic tuberculosis) to write his most famous short story. It's called poetic licence- get over it. Gregory F. (Ex Sgt.) Howard |
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