For some unexplainable reason, the catchy American tune, “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” came to mind when he entered the bathhouse and he began to whistle it, wondering if it wasn’t verging on treason to enjoy a song that was so blatantly American. He had heard it while his U-boat patrolled the waters off the East Coast; the boat was often so close to shore that its wireless radio easily picked up American stations.
Soaping in the shower, Rudolf jabbed at his American captors. “You know, one German is worth ten soft-bellied Americans. All they want is a comfortable life. They have no will to work hard like us pure-bred Germans. You can see how lazy they are by looking at our guards who never stand properly at attention!”
His good friend, Fritz Kraus, another radio operator from U-893, was showering as well. Over the din of the water, Fritz yelled, “Amerikaner morale will surely fall when they try to enter Germany. We will never capitulate!”
Rudolf stepped out of the shower and toweled off, giving special care to his right bicep, the site of his swastika tattoo, touching it lightly with reverence.
Fritz gave his friend a nudge. “Mein Gott, you love that tattoo! My father would have flogged me if I did such a stupid thing!”
Rudolf raised his eyebrows and looked at Fritz. “Yes, my grandmother was not pleased. She said I made myself low class.”
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