This work is fictitious, and any similarities to any persons, alive or dead, are purely coincidental. Mention is made of persons in public life only for the purposes of realism and for that reason alone. Certain licence is taken in respect of medical procedures, terms and conditions, and the author does not claim to be the fount of all knowledge.

The author accepts the right of the individual to hold his/her (or whatever) own political, religious and social views, and there is no intention to deliberately offend anyone. If you wish to take offence, that is your problem.

This is only a story, and it contains adult material, which includes sex and intimate descriptive details pertaining to genitalia. If this is likely to offend, then don’t read it.

Unfortunately, no politicians, estate agents or lawyers were injured or killed in the writing of this story, and no one else was either.

If you enjoyed it, then please Email me and tell me. If you hated it, Email me and lie.

I will always welcome contact.

tanya_jaya@yahoo.co.uk

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Fortune’s Soldier

Chapter Five An End in sight.

As January 1945 arrived and went, the Third Reich continued to crumble. The last offensive, although doomed to failure, actually reduced the Germans’ ability to field any effective armour, so had the effect of hastening the end. Discoveries were made by all the advancing Allies that turned strong men into quivering wrecks. Camps so obscene, so evil and so utterly awful that never would men believe that there was any honour or compassion in Hitler’s evil empire.

As the armies in the west surrendered, the whole infrastructure began to collapse, so the Allies began squabbling over the spoils, despite the war not even being over, yet!

However, the Germans defending against the advancing Russians fought with a different ferocity. They feared the Russians so much that every German would rather the Americans or British would take Berlin rather than the Russians. However, agreements were reached, and it was agreed that the Russians were to enter Berlin first.

Janine was twenty in February and she hadn’t seen Otto in many weeks. She knew he was safe and that was all that really mattered. She was tired of the war, so tired. She found it all rather amusing. Last September she had thought herself male, and had been a second Lieutenant. Now she was six months older, a woman, and had been a Lieutenant in the German SS Auxiliaries and was now a Captain in the Free French Army.

She still wore her US issued kit, but with her new Captain’s insignia. She found it disconcerting to be saluted again, having got out of the practice.

In late March, she went to see Colonel Max Clifford and requested some leave. However, he had other orders for her. She was due to attend a ceremony in Paris, where she was to receive medals from the Americans and the French. The British decided that they couldn’t justify anything, even though she was considered to be jolly pretty!

They revised the whole POW handling system and, as the end loomed, the focus was more on resettlement than detention. There was still a need to identify those responsible for the inhuman crimes against humanity, so specialised units were set up to do just that.

She was relieved of her current duties and, in light of her history, she was given four weeks leave. On conclusion of that leave, she was to report to the POW resettlement team that was being set up in the event of the anticipated capitulation of the Germans, so that those POWs that were being held in France could be efficiently documented and returned as civilians to their homes.

She was given special papers that gave her leave to travel anywhere she wanted to. She was paid for her services to the Allied forces in Europe, and was more than happy to have a little spending money. As a captain, she was entitled to certain privileges, so she took advantage of them.

Otto was now located in a holding centre for POWs in Northern France. He was content to wait. A doctor had looked at his leg and he was hopeful that some corrective work was possible to improve mobility and reduce discomfort.

He didn’t hear from Janine, but he knew that soon they would be together.

Janine travelled to Paris. She found a city transformed as De Gaulle was now the hero of the French people. She found it quite amusing as the French Government had declared him an enemy of France a few years ago. She stayed in a hotel, courtesy of the US army, and went out and found a dress shop that was open for business.

She bought, at extortionate cost, a delightful long black evening dress and a very smart red and white dress.

She arrived, in her new uniform, at the Presidential palace. She was escorted, along with a dozen or so other award recipients down a red carpet, flanked by French Dragoons in traditional uniform with plumed helmets and swords.

De Gaulle and an American General then made speeches and the names of those present were called out, with a brief description of their deeds.

“Captain Janine Chavanay. For heroism under enemy fire. For courage and determination in the face of the enemy, and for wisdom and honour in a time of trial. This young lady identified a team of covert SS soldiers, dressed as American soldiers, and then prevented enemy armour from taking a bridge, saving the life of an American Army captain, wounded by shrapnel. She dragged him to a vehicle and drove him, together with the crew of a disabled American tank, to safety, whilst under fire from German tanks. For many months, she has served the Allies in trying and difficult circumstances, by identifying and isolating enemies of humanity.

“She is a true French heroine and patriot!”

She stepped forward and saluted. She wished she had been able to wear her new dress, as she thought the small French crowd would have appreciated her colour scheme. Even so, they still cheered madly.

De Gaulle returned her salute, pinned a pretty little medal to her left breast and kissed her on both cheeks.

Then the American General stepped forward, pinned his pretty medal next to the French one and hesitated. He then smiled and kissed her as well.

“There have to be some perks to this job,” he whispered to her.

Major General William Cameron, standing at the sidelines went very still. He was staring at the attractive French girl and his heart had almost stopped. She was the exact replica of his deal dead wife. He felt weak and slightly dizzy.

Janine saluted and turned to the left. At that moment she was staring right at her father. She went very pale. Her mouth twitched, as if to smile, and then was still. Her eyes met his and a spark of recognition seemed to emanate from them. She then marched smartly back to her place and stood at ease.

The whole ceremony lasted for another half an hour, but Will couldn’t take his eyes off the girl.

His whole being screamed at him that he was seeing things that weren’t there, but yet there was something about her eyes.

After the ceremony, there was an informal reception. He looked for her, finding her surrounded by a host of admiring young officers. He waited and watched. Occasionally engaging in conversation with other dignitaries, he found it hard to concentrate on anything apart from the girl. She was the very image of his dead wife, even down to the way she stood and her delightful smile.

He moved closer and heard her voice as she spoke in both English and French.

Even her voice was so like Ellen’s and, in a way, like young Jamie’s, except she was female, of course.

Janine was very conscious of her father’s presence, but was unwilling to face him yet. As soon as she saw he was distracted, she made her excuses and left, returning to her hotel. She immediately booked out and boarded a train for the coast, having previously arranged passage to England.

Will Cameron found the girl gone and felt frustrated. The following day he managed to locate where she had been staying, yet when he called the hotel, he was informed that Captain Chavanay had left.

“Do you know where she has gone?” he asked.

“She mentioned visiting some friends in Wiltshire, England. Monsieur.”

William Cameron’s blood ran cold.

He returned to his HQ and informed his staff that he was going to England on some urgent business.

Janine was on the deck when the white cliffs came in sight. The old ferry was full of a wide mixture of civilians and servicemen and women. She was huddled in her great coat, her military cap firmly wedged on her head and she shivered in the cold wind.

It was March and, although the war was still going on, the Allies were now in Germany, so the experts were predicting the end in a matter of weeks now.

A flight of planes flew eastwards overhead. They were Douglas DC Dakotas with US markings. More men and equipment going to the front, no doubt.

The smiled as she remembered the last time she had crossed the channel, she had been in a plane, not unlike them. A lot had happened since then.

The boat arrived and she found chaos at the docks. The military police were searching through all arriving British servicemen’s kit. A growing pile of German military memorabilia was forming behind them. Janine smiled, as there enough firearms to start a small war.

She showed her papers and was waved through. Her single small suitcase drew no attention and she managed to find the train for London.

It was quite late when the taxi dropped her at her grandparents’ home. Dusk was settling. She had thought to ring to warn them, but she just didn’t have the courage, or the words.

How does one tell one’s grandparents that one has become a woman?

She walked down the drive. The daffodils were out and suddenly she was awash with memories. She saw the old swing attached to the tree by the summerhouse, so the small boy who used to swing on it was very different now.

She stood at the front door and after a moment’s hesitation she pulled the bell chain.

The distant jangle informed her that it still worked, and a dog barked.

She had forgotten Rusty, the spaniel, and she smiled as she remembered him.

A light came on in the hall, as her grandfather’s voice admonished the dog.

Then the outside light came on and the door opened.

He hadn’t changed. A little older, perhaps, but still sprightly and with that warm smile.

Tears sprang to her eyes and she found herself choked up.

George Simmonds looked at the figure on the doorstep. He frowned and then felt very strange. For, an attractive young woman stood there, looking the very picture of his own dear daughter.

“Hello Grandpa. Remember me?” the girl said.

The voice was that of a girl, yet the timbre and sound was similar to his grandson, missing in action for six months now.

He shook his head.

The girl was crying and yet she was smiling too.

“It seems that I wasn’t exactly what I thought I was,” she said.

“J,.. J,.. Jamie?”

She smiled.

“I call myself Janine now,” she said.

“Who is it George?” said her grandmother’s voice, as she peered round her large husband at the slight figure outside.

“Oh, dear God!” she said, raising a hand to her breast.

“Hello Granny. I’m sorry I didn’t call, but I didn’t know quite how to tell you.”

“Oh Jamie. You poor soul - I’m so sorry, so, so sorry!” she said and immediately embraced the confused girl.

They brought her indoors, and soon she was sitting by the fire in the sitting room.

She told them everything, or nearly everything. She prudently decided that Otto was not something she was willing to share. Yet!

It was then that Jeannette told her of her birth and the decisions that were made at the time.

“So, are you telling me that I was a girl all along, yet you never told me?” she asked, shocked and not a little upset.

“No. It was never as simple as that. There was a degree of confusion over your gender. You could have been either, but your mother decided to bring you up as a boy, as that was what you seemed to be,” Jeannette said.

“But, you knew I was different?”

“Yes. We couldn’t tell anyone as your mother was so adamant that she wanted a boy. Once your father came home and you were nearly a year old, it was too late. Then you seemed to settle down and we prayed that everything was settled. It obviously wasn’t.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she said and became very thoughtful. She thought about a girlhood she never had. She wondered about what she would have been like if she had been brought up as the girl she so obviously was.

“Have you eaten?” Jeannette asked.

“No. Not for ages. But I’m fine,” she said, her mind miles away.

“I’ll get you some bread and jam. There isn’t much else, I’m afraid.”

She smiled, as Jeannette went to the kitchen.

The telephone rang, and George went and answered it. She stood up and walked to the fireplace. She looked at the photographs of the melancholy little boy who peered out at her. She now knew why he had been so melancholy.

George returned.

“That was your father. I think he’s twigged. He wanted to know whether we had a visitor. I asked who, he said a young French girl. I didn’t know what to say, so I said that he ought to come and see for himself. He is rather upset, I’m afraid.”

She smiled sadly.

“I saw him yesterday, but I just couldn’t bring myself to speak to him. What could I say? Hello, I’m not the son you thought I was, I’m your daughter?”

George smiled and managed a chuckle.

“What a pickle, eh?”

Jeannette returned with some bread and jam and a glass of milk.

Janine found he was hungry, but as soon as the taste of the homemade jam was on her tongue, she started to cry. It was all rather too much.

Jeannette held the girl and cried tears of relief to have her back.

“Grandpa?” Janine asked, as her tears subsided.

“Yes?”

“In my case is a bottle of brandy. If you could get it, perhaps we could do with a drink.”

They spent a pleasant, cosy evening, just getting to know their new grand-daughter. Janine felt very weary, and at ten they all retired to bed. She went to her old room, which hadn’t changed at all, and within moments of undressing, she was asleep.

He Grandparents looked in on her sleeping form.

“Oh George, she is so like Ellen.”

George looked at Janine.

“She is, but I think she is even more beautiful. Truly we have been blessed!”

Janine awoke early, and as quite often of late, it took her a few moments to remember where she was. Initially, she had a terrible thought that she was a boy again.

However, on feeling her now familiar and pleasing private parts, she smiled and snuggled under the warm blankets.

She wondered how her father would take the news. Would he accept the truth? On the other hand, would he reject it because of its implausibility?

She had created the persona of Janine Chavanay, what would happen to her?

Would she become Janine Cameron, or was it safer to keep to her new identity?

When would she and Otto be able to marry and, if so, where would they go?

Would they be victims of prejudice and abuse?

Would they have children?

What sort of world would it be for them?

All these questions, but with no answers. She frowned, as it was almost easier when she had forgotten about her past.

The sun was out and it was a lovely spring morning. She rose and washed in the old familiar bathroom. She hung up her new clothes and suddenly got a pang of conscience about the clothes she had ‘borrowed’ from Arnhem.

She put that on her ‘to do’ list and dressed in her new red and white dress.

She put on a little more make up than she was used to, but still she tended to be understated. She went down stairs and found her Grandmother in the kitchen.

Jeannette smiled, for suddenly the girl transformed the whole house into a lovely place. Their lives had been so dark and bleak after they received the news of Jamie being missing.

This lively and so happy creature was not only a blessing but also a wonderful surprise. Their meagre rations did not amount to bountiful fare, but Janine seemed not to care. Nevertheless, Jeannette could tell that the girl was worried by the thought of her father’s imminent arrival and the potential consequences of that.

She gave them some cheese and a couple of bottles bottle of Claret that she had bought in France.

“I’ll bet you haven’t had any good Brie for some time?” she said to her grandmother in French.

Jeannette gasped, as the girl’s French was perfect, even down to a slight southern accent.

“Why did you choose to be a French girl?”

“Because my German wasn’t that good and I could hardly be English, could I?”

She showed her grandmother her medals.

As soon as Jeanette saw the surname ‘Chavanay’ she burst into tears.

“I thought the family would approve,” Janine said and her grandmother hugged her.

What will you do about being a Cameron? Everyone thinks you are dead.”

Janine had thought about this for some time.

“I am Janine Chavanay. I feel that is whom I am. I know I am, or rather, was - Jamie Cameron, and I can’t lose that. But, I think it would be too complicated to become Jamie again, no one would really be accepting and I would be treated like a freak.”

“Your father may not accept that.” Jeannette said, worried.

“If my father can accept who I am now, he will accept who I want to be. If he accepts me as his daughter, he will not care that I am a Cameron or a Chavanay.”

Jeanette spent the most wonderful morning with her granddaughter making a steak and kidney pie, and an apple pie. There was a lack of good steak and the kidney was tiny, but the occasion warranted a little expense on the black market.

It was as if she had always been Janine. She was so happy and chatty that every now and again Jeannette had to stop and cry a little, for she was so like her mother, it was uncanny.

“Do you miss being Jamie?” she asked.

Janine smiled and shook her head.

“Not in the slightest. I have found who I should have been and am perfectly content.”

“You are so like your mother.”

“I am pleased, but I think I am very different inside.”

Jeannette smiled.

“Yes, I agree, there is a lot of your father in you. The sensible and practical bits, I think. You have a level of cynicism beyond your years, as well.”

“Talking of which, when is he arriving?” Janine asked.

“He said lunch time. But the trains and boats are not that punctual.”

“He is a General, he will get a plane and then a staff car,” Janine said.

“How do you know?”

“It is what I would do.”

At that very moment, a green coloured Humber motor car pulled up on the drive. Janine saw a female ATS driver open the rear door and her father alighted.

“See?” she said.

Her grandfather walked towards the front door.

“Your father has arrived. Are you nervous, my dear?”

Janine thought for a moment.

“No, surprising as it seems, I’m not. He will be, though. Can you just introduce me as your great niece from Menton? I don’t think I can just come out with the truth too quickly, I have to gauge him first.”

Barney was barking and they heard him in the hall.

“In here, Will,” shouted George.

Will came into the kitchen. He looked tired and rather old. He smiled at George and kissed Jeannette, but all the time he stared at Janine, having gone very pale.

“Will, you haven’t met my sister’s granddaughter from France. This is my great-niece Janine Chavanay, from Menton. Janine, this is my son in law, General William Cameron,” said Jeannette.

“Monsieur le General, enchante,” Janine said, holding out her hand.

Will hesitated briefly, then took her hand and stared into her face.

“Janine? I was in Paris, did you see me there, when you were presented with your medals?”

William was keeping control, but only just.

“Oh, at the palace? Oui, I remember,” she said, smiling.

It was the smile that did it.

He crumpled, the girl was so like both his late wife and his missing son. He sat in the chair, still holding the girl’s hand.

Janine felt awful and knelt beside her father.

“Oh Daddy. I’m sorry, I can’t pretend any longer. The only way I can tell you is straight. I was Jamie, but it seems that I wasn’t! I am a girl, and I cannot hide it. You never had a son, just a daughter.”

Will stared at her, the frown was threatening to cause him major disfigurement.

“Jamie?”

“I call myself Janine now. It seems more appropriate somehow.”

“No. How? You can’t be. I don’t understand.”

“Oh Daddy, I don’t know how either, but I am. It happened, I changed and you have a daughter.”

Jeannette explained a little background into Janine/Jamie’s medical history, and he shook his head. Then he realised that his son was no longer missing, but instead of his son, he had a daughter so like his dear wife that he broke down completely.

Janine simply held her father as he sobbed. She looked up to see her grandparents crying as well.

She smiled.

“Why does everyone cry when I’m around?”

William could only stay for three days, and spent most of his time with the girl who claimed to be his daughter. There was no doubt that she was a girl, and no doubt that she looked acted and treated him just like Jamie. However, still he questioned her on every aspect of Jamie’s life. She patiently answered, not rushing the man, realising that this was very hard for him.

He was terribly torn.

On the one hand, he desperately wanted to believe her, yet all his years of having categories and things all being quite straight forward, meant that his military mind found it hard to believe. On the other, he adored her for three reasons.

The first was that she looked like his wife, the second was that she behaved like a female version of his son, and third and probably most importantly, she seemed to love him unconditionally.

On the third day, a car drew up on the drive and two old friends appeared, Yvette and her husband Bernard.

William and Janine had been walking the dog and just came around the side of the house to see them on the drive.

Yvette stared at the pretty blonde girl who looked so like her dead friend Ellen, that tears immediately sprang to her eyes.

Bernard didn’t have a clue, but just watched in amazement as his wife rushed to embrace the girl.

He was even more amazed when he heard her say, “Oh, my poor child, I am so glad that eventually you are who you should always have been!”

William stared at her in utter disbelief.

“You knew?” he stammered.

Yvette, her arm around Janine’s waist, looked at him quite surprised.

“Of course, didn’t you?”

Will stared at her and then at Janine, who was smiling broadly.

Then his craggy face seemed to melt into a smile too. At last his heart won over his mind, and he gazed lovingly and proudly at his daughter.

“No. It seems that I was the blind one. I have found this all very difficult, but I don’t see how I can deny the truth anymore!”

With that Janine burst into tears of happiness and flung herself into her sceptical old father’s arms, and they hugged for an age.

Dinner that evening was a completely different event. Yvette and Bernard stayed and the six of them sat at the large dining room table. The fare would have been somewhat meagre, due to the rationing, but George, despite his advancing years, had gone out with a farmer friend, earlier in the year, and they had a superb brace of pheasant sufficiently hung and their repast was greatly improved by the Claret and Brie that Janine had brought from France.

Jeanette had found one of Ellen’s evening dresses in the attic. She had never thrown out Ellen’s clothes, and she and Janine had spent a wonderful couple of hours bringing them all down and sifting through them. Many were hopelessly out of fashion now, but equally many would never be out of fashion.

One evening dress, sleeveless and backless, with two very slim straps that went around the neck was in a shimmering white silk with a turquoise sheen. The turquoise thread was slightly sparkly and the dress fitted Janine as if it was made for her. As she walked, the turquoise seemed to make it look like water and she glistened as she moved. She couldn’t wear a bra with it, so she even tried it on without knickers, as the line was just so delicate and perfect.

Jeannette looked at her granddaughter and wondered how anyone could have made such a terrible mistake.

The girl had a perfect figure. Even her breasts, though quite ample, were completely firm and retained their shape without the bra. She was utterly gorgeous and her delightful smile seemed to take her into a realm of human beauty that was rarely seen.

“It is such a pity you can’t wear earrings, my dear!”

Janine had not thought of jewellery very much. What with her roles with the Germans, then the Americans, she had no time to dwell on the finer points of feminine accessories.

With a sterilised needle and some alcohol, Jeannette was allowed to pierce Janine’s ears, just so she could wear her mother’s jewellery.

Will had been standing in the drawing room, next to the fire, talking about how the Russians were going to be the next problem, when his daughter appeared.

He had to hold onto the mantle piece, for such was the shock!

She was wearing a gown that her mother had worn at the Governor’s ball in India, in happier times. Her hair was delightfully styled and she wore the pendant diamond earrings and matching necklace that he had given Ellen for their first wedding anniversary.

Her makeup was discrete, yet undeniably effective, as her crimson nails flashed in the lights. She stopped by the door and tilted her head slightly to one side and smiled at him and him alone.

“Well Daddy, approve?”

Tears came to the old warrior’s eyes and he found he couldn’t speak.

He simply nodded, so she glided across the floor and took his arm.

“That’s all I want from you,” she said, “It’s all I’ve ever wanted!”

“I never thought anyone could ever be more beautiful than your mother. But, I have to admit, you are, and I am inordinately proud of you,” he said, when at last he found his voice.

The evening was quite jolly and then Bernard asked the question that everyone had been avoiding.

“So, Janine. What are you going to call yourself, Chavanay or Cameron?”

There was silence and Bernard realised, a little late, that perhaps this was a stupid thing to say.

Janine glanced at her father, who looked down.

Taking this to mean that she was free to choose, she decided to be honest with everyone, and clear up her little identity problem for once and for all.

“It is irrelevant really. I am a Cameron, but our society is so stuffy it will be much easier to stay as a Chavanay for a short while. Jamie is dead and no one can deny that. I can never be the boy again, so it will be much easier to let things stay as they are. I know it will be hard for Daddy to pretend to the world that his son is a fallen hero, but easier than the alternative of living with bigotry and ignorant prejudice.

“You see, I know how people will treat me. A woman who was once a man - I will be little more than a queer, even if I should conceive and have children. Besides, I do have another secret, which I suppose it should come out now. I am engaged to be married.”

The silence that followed that announcement was tangible.

Then everyone wanted to talk at once.

Janine met her father’s gaze. He was frowning and she smiled at him.

“I didn’t announce it before for several reasons. One he is not really what you would openly accept into your arms. Two, he is not at liberty to come over here for a while, and three, I said engaged, yet in reality we hardly know each other. The war has meant that we have spent more time apart than together. You see he is not British!”

Again everyone wanted to talk at once. All except her father, who stared at her with a small smile.

He knows, she thought.

“I’m not saying anything else for a while, I need to get back to France and try to locate him again. It may all get called off, so just give me some time,” she said.

Bernard immediately changed the subject, so Janine took the opportunity to clear away the crockery.

After dinner, they were relaxing in the drawing room, so Janine went out into the garden to clear her head.

She sat on the old wooden swing hammock and looked up into the clear star spangled spring sky.

“He’s German, isn’t he?” her father’s voice broke the quiet.

She smiled.

“Yes Daddy. He’s a German officer.”

He sat beside her, and put his arm around her. She snuggled in close.

“I thought so. They way you were so illusive, it could only be. Where did you meet?”

Janine told her father everything. It was the first time she had been completely honest about the work she did for the SS and the fact she had helped process British POWs.

When she had finished, he drew her close to him.

“You were monumentally brave,” he said.

“No Daddy, I was a scared little girl, who was confused and afraid. Otto offered me friendship and we shared some human kindness together. I love him very much.”

“I know you do, sweetheart. I won’t stand in your way, as the Germans will be our friends again very soon. You’ll see, the Russians will become the bogeyman, mark my words.”

“Oh Daddy, I was so afraid of what you’d say.”

“What can I say? Love is a strange thing, as it blinds us to so much. It makes us follow our hearts. Your lives will be difficult if you stay in Europe, you know that?”

“Yes, I know that.”

“Where will you go?”

“We haven’t talked about it. I think I should like to go to America or Canada.”

William nodded.

“You’ll come and live with us, won’t you?”

“We’ll see,” he said, and smiled in the darkness.

since 08/16/05