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Lynn Philip Hodgson
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Lynn Philip Hodgson
2054 Courtland Drive
Unit # 102
Burlington, Ontario, Canada
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Out of Print!
Mills of the Gods
Part III & final in the series
of Camp-X Vengeance Weapon & Ajax Arsenal of Democracy, The Blake Grey Series
Excerpts from: Camp-X
Mills of the Gods
Homeland Artillery Park 11 Peenemünde
On an Island off the Baltic Sea Coast, North-West Germany
Taking a deep breath, Colonel General Siegfried Hoffman poked his head into the crowded lecture room and announced, “Excuse the intrusion, Herr Doctor!”
Dr. Willi von Bressler turned away from the blackboard. Visibly irritated at the interruption, with chalk in hand, he asked, “Yes, General?”
“We have a visitor, Herr Doctor!” Hoffman explained, adding for clarification, “From Berlin!” Tilting his head in the direction of the Centre’s reception area, Siegfried mouthed a name.
“Please inform whoever it is that I’m busy at the moment,” General Hoffman. And kindly ask them to make an appointment with Herta, like everyone else,” Von Bressler muttered the last words as he returned to the array of equations spattering the chalkboard.
“And so, with the improved gyro-compass controls now being tested on the A4 Aggregate , we can expect the trajectory cut-off point to be…like this.” Willi slashed at the blackboard with rapid strokes, producing a mathematical model, while his team of engineers and technicians dutifully recorded the hieroglyphic symbols in their notepads. Whirling around with a dramatic flourish, he concluded, “And, it will easily reach London!”
“I’m sorry, Herr Doctor,” Hoffman persisted. “May I speak with you privately? Outside, please? It’s very important!”
“Very well. Dr. Hamm, would you continue, please? I’ll be back in a moment, ladies and gentlemen.”
Walking quickly down the brightly-lit corridor, Willi tried to imagine what weighty matters might have compelled the SS Chief to travel all the way from Berlin to Peenemünde. ‘Surely Wotan can’t be cancelled after our first successful launch in October?’ Upon reaching his office door, Willi’s entry was blocked by a pair of SS men from the Reichsführer’s personal entourage, demanding identification.
“Let him enter!” barked a penetrating, high-pitched voice from inside. Reluctantly, the guards stepped aside to allow Willi in. Once inside, Willi was confronted with the sight of the SS Chief pacing, head bowed, as though absorbed in a problem. “Shut the door!” Waving his Marshall’s baton, Himmler motioned in the direction of a side chair. “Sit down, please, Herr Doctor.”
Hastening to comply, Willi responded with forced courtesy, “Certainly Herr Reichsführer! What a pleasure! And what brings you to our little base, if I may inquire?”
Ignoring Willi’s greeting, Himmler confronted von Bressler. “Where’s General Hoffman?”
“He, he, didn’t know...”
Striding indignantly to the door, Himmler knocked once. When it opened, he curtly directed that General Hoffman be sent for, immediately. Then, perching on the edge of Willi’s desk, Himmler brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his immaculate SS riding breeches with the tip of his baton. Looking up, he intoned somberly, “The Führer is gravely concerned, Doctor.”
“Damn, I can never see the entrance when it is a moonless night,” Hamish said half talking to himself and Adara.
“There, there it is Hamish. You see, I’ve only been here a few weeks and I know the Camp better than you do,” laughed Adara.
“It’s those damned guards. They keep the lights out for the element of surprise. They also have allowed the guardhouse to be covered by thick brush, which makes it near impossible to detect. Right then, who’s on duty?” asked Hamish as the jeeps lights shone on the lowered gate just in front of him.
“Evening Sir, the others are gathered and waiting for you in the Lecture Hall,” said Private Richards very smartly.
“Thank you Private. What time are you off son?”
“Another hour Sir.”
“I’ll serve notice that the Mess is to stay open until 0200h so that you too can have a little Christmas cheer before packing it in for the night.”
“Thank you Sir, that’s very kind of you,” saluted Private Richards as the jeep drove away, the gears shifting slowly from first to second.
Hamish exited the jeep first and cautioned Adara to watch her footing as he had just slipped on some ice, which was covered by a new blanket of snow. Holding her arm to steady her the two entered the Lecture Hall.
Adara looked around the room to the sight of Christmas decorations, a huge Scotch pine tree decorated with bright garland and rings of coloured bulbs. Andy was tending bar in at the back of the room and still feeling chilled by the bitter cold outside, she quickly made her way over to the crackling fire absentmindedly ignoring those around her.
Hamish barely made it through the door when Robert Brooks grabbed him by the arm.
“Hamish! Well done tonight, congratulations!”
“Thank you Robert, it was a team effort and executed with precision timing,” replied Hamish. “Is everyone here?”
"I have just finished your latest book, (Mills of the Gods) and thoroughly enjoyed it as usual. While I was too young to serve, I was keenly interested in World War 2, and the history leading up to it. Although I have found all of your Camp-X books to be informative and entertaining, I get the greatest satisfaction in reading your references to events that I clearly remember from the 1930's and 40's. I am sure that you must be gratified to see that your books have a wide appeal to young people as well as senior citizens like myself."
Port Hope, Ontario
Makes a great gift for your father/mother or grandfather/grandmother or just for the history buff in the family!
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