Chapter 237 Valentine's Day: Peach Blossom Robbery

"Valentine's Day? Valentine's Day! Oh, Heavens!"

Sitting behind the large white oak desk, Logan rubbed his temples with his index fingers. On the desk lay an opened letter with elegant handwriting, unmistakably from a young woman. As a "war hero" and "national icon" heavily promoted by the German propaganda machine, Logan's secretaries dealt with numerous letters from female admirers every day. It was said that the volume of these letters almost rivaled one-third of what the Führer received. However, this particular letter was different from the usual love letters. The sender's address on the envelope read "Königsberg," and it was signed by "Lucy Susman."

During his time in England, Logan had managed to gather some information about his "engagement" from General William Susman. It turned out that Logan's father and Lucy's father had served together in the trenches during World War I and had deep bonds. At that time, both had children, and they made a pact to marry them in the future. Unfortunately, Logan's father perished in battle before the war ended, leaving Lucy's father to take on the responsibility of supporting the widow and children of his fallen comrade. After Logan's mother passed away in 1933, she contributed to Logan's education at a military academy. Before the outbreak of the war, Hans Logan and Lucy Susman were officially engaged in the presence of a group of relatives and friends, including Lucy's father, Colonel William Susman, who was then serving as an Air Force colonel. However, no specific wedding date was set.

Regardless of whether Hans Logan had agreed to this engagement out of gratitude, the die had been cast, and there was no turning back. Logan had hoped to put this matter on hold until he found an opportunity to resolve it properly. However, this letter made him feel very uncomfortable because Lucy and her family were about to move to Berlin. Moreover, this young girl with fiery red hair didn't hide her longing for a romantic Valentine's Day!

Logan knew that due to the needs of the Eastern Front, many Germans living in East Prussia and Poland would be relocating to areas far from the Soviet-German border in the near future. Although this was not a permanent move, families like Lucy's, who owned large horse farms, would undoubtedly receive a large sum of compensation from the German government. This would be enough for them to settle down in bustling Berlin. Moreover, they had a "prospective son-in-law" serving as a high-ranking officer in the German Air Force!

For the second Valentine's Day during wartime, Logan was already torn between his two equally distressed family members: Quirina and Doreen, who each had their own merits. Under his careful guidance and training, they had become even more sophisticated and mature, representing different age groups. In the Western world, Valentine's Day was highly valued. Even if he could excuse himself during the day with official business, how would he spend the evening?

"General! General?"

The crisp knock on the door brought Logan back to reality. With only a few days left until Valentine's Day, maybe he could come up with a satisfactory solution for all.

Logan swiftly stashed the letter into his drawer. "Come in!"

His adjutant, Karl August, entered the room. Physically resembling the German footballer Philipp Lahm, August spoke with a pure Berlin accent. Logan remembered that Lahm, despite his achievements as a footballer, was a native of Munich. If only his memories of football players could be converted into military knowledge, Logan thought he would be even more adept at military affairs!

"General, we just received a report. Our 27th Fighter Squadron dispatched to Italy engaged the Royal Air Force over the Mediterranean Sea this morning. Our boys shot down two Hurricanes without any casualties!"

August reported with evident joy. Logan, still recovering from his momentary distress, could sense something unusual from his subordinate's expression.

As the German Africa Corps was being formed and dispatched to North Africa, the 27th Fighter Squadron, equipped with Bf-109E fighters, was one of the first German Air Force units to be deployed to Sicily as part of the Axis effort to gain air superiority over the North African theater.

Logan wasn't particularly interested in such so-called milestone events. His principle was "better a bad beginning than a bad ending."

"Oh, did you report it to the High Command?"

"Yes, sir, simultaneous report!" August replied promptly, his smile fading.

"Good, I got it," Logan said thoughtfully. Then, he called his adjutant back before he could leave. "What are your plans for Valentine's Day?"

"Me?" August was surprised by the question. He smiled awkwardly. "If I have the time, I hope to take my wife on a short trip to Austria, or maybe... just watch a movie in Berlin and enjoy a candlelit dinner!"

"Marriage has its perks. It saves you a lot of trouble," Logan muttered under his breath.

August asked cautiously, "General, would you like me to compile a list of romantic restaurants or something similar in Berlin?"

"No need for that! Thank you, Karl!" Logan replied, shrinking back into his chair.

"Feel free to call on me if you need anything!" August saluted briskly and swiftly exited!

"That guy... Why couldn't he learn something else!" Logan grumbled, clearly annoyed by his young aide's recent actions. Due to Hermann Göring's connections with the Nazi Party, the political atmosphere among the airmen in comparison to the traditional German Navy was much more pronounced, and Logan currently had no say in this matter.

Entangled in personal turmoil, time morphed into a form of torment. Logan took a drag from his half-finished cigar, realizing he had only scribbled on his notepad, leaving all the documents related to combat and weaponry unreviewed. Just as he finally opened one, August returned.

"General, this is an invitation just delivered from the Prime Minister's Office, apparently for tomorrow's dinner!"

"Celebrating what? Our air force's victory in the Mediterranean?" Logan cracked a joke that wasn't remotely funny, then nonchalantly glanced at the finely printed invitation with embossed gold lettering, "Spanish Military Delegation?"

August stood silently to the side, though always quicker on the uptake with rumors than his superior.

"These opportunistic Spaniards, oh, I mean, their particularly shrewd leaders!" Logan remarked with a tinge of disdain.

"Yes, General, quite shrewd they are!" August commented, his face twisted with scorn.

Logan glanced at the documents beside him, their contents suddenly glaringly out of place, so he simply closed them. "Karl, let's go out for a bit!"

"Where to, General?" August inquired cautiously.

"Anywhere, just to get some fresh air!" Logan stood up, glancing out the window, "Fetch a Kubelwagen, will you?"

"In this weather?" August intended to advise against it, but seeing Logan's stern expression, he swallowed his words.

Logan removed his medal-laden collar, donned a grey overcoat devoid of any insignia, and put on a wide-brimmed military cap. Walking the streets, he didn't attract much attention.

August had some military education, but as an adjutant, he was quite agile. Soon enough, a well-maintained VW82 Kubelwagen appeared at the rear entrance of the Air Ministry building.

"I'll drive!" Logan bluntly pushed August into the passenger seat. Despite the canvas cover, these four-wheel-drive vehicles, while cost-effective and durable, lacked insulation, especially in winter.

It had been nearly three months since Logan had driven himself, and at the first intersection, he lightly grazed a parked 60-type Volkswagen. Despite his current substantial income, he sped away in annoyance, leaving the meticulous German adjutant surprised and silent.

The war, which had been ongoing since the summer of 1939, had been going on for nearly a year and a half. Berlin, the capital at its peak, was filled with a strong sense of pride. While frugality was promoted in imperial propaganda, it didn't equate to conservatism. Particularly in bustling cities like Berlin, people dressed quite fashionably: men wore suits of various colors, usually paired with dark trousers and leather shoes. Adolf Hitler's style of parted hair was ubiquitous, always shining in the sunlight when hats were doffed; snow still piled up on street corners, yet women continued to flaunt their stylish attire under knee-length trench coats, revealing elegantly shaped calves clad in stockings, with various shoe styles but nothing too flashy. Regarding hairstyles, permanent waves had become popular, with a variety of curly styles, while natural straight hair was relatively rare!

At a street corner waiting for the traffic light, Logan glanced at a leather shop diagonally across. Many women came in and out, all dressed quite stylishly. Inadvertently, his gaze was suddenly drawn to a petite figure: among the trendiest hairstyles of the time, the deep waves were highly favored by young professional women, the colorful little hats exuding youthfulness, a gray-and-white checkered wide coat giving a fresh and airy feeling. What caught Logan's attention the most, being a "legs man," was that despite the woman's height of only around five feet three, her legs clad in stockings were perfect — slender calves without an ounce of excess flesh, the straight lines compensating for the lack of absolute length, and the well-formed ankles gleaming like warm jade in the slanting sunlight...

Typically, petite people don't have prominent curves, but fortunately, during this innocent era, people rarely used sponges or other objects to create false elevations. Logan estimated she was between a B and C cup, judging by her skin color, she was likely quite attractive. However, from this angle, he could only see half of her profile, so he couldn't confirm if she belonged to the "angelic figure, devilish face" category.

"General? General! We can go now!" August reminded nervously from the passenger seat.

"Oh!" Logan snapped back to reality, starting the car. As the woman turned around, the initial awe was replaced by surprise: her delicate features didn't seem European; her large, limpid eyes were breathtakingly beautiful. Wasn't she the cute maid from the Christmas banquet?