P training for Sarah
“Kurt, I need to stop,” Sarah urged me as we drove north from Hamburg in my new six litre Mercedes. “No. there is no time,” I insisted as I drove fast but skillfully along the brand new Autobahn at 150 km hr. “But I must!” she insisted. “A half hour at most,” I insisted, “Cross your legs!” She scowled as she always did, damned woman, I only married her for her money and she only married me because I was in the SS and had a nice black uniform and a secure future. She was no beauty, we may have fumbled clumsily on our wedding night but I would not swear to it as her young Aryan maid Julia was much more to my liking. “I don’t understand why I have to see doctor Weissman …