A New Kind of War

‘Okay.’ Amos looked over his shoulder, at the fast-approaching figures of David Audley and the RSM.

‘And Audley – ?’

Audley’s outraged voice arrived before Fred could answer. ‘ Fred –’

‘Hold on, David.’ He was simultaneously aware of the two Germans hovering discreetly, and of the RSM

behind Audley, just as discreetly trying to hide whatever he had used to disarm the boy. And of Audley himself, his ugly features aflame with anger and humiliation.

‘ But, Fred– ’ The outrage became almost plaintive.

‘Shut up, David.’ At least Audley’s face wasn’t white with fear, as his own might have been: it was ugly with rage! ‘Thank you, Amos – Mr Levin . . . But you stay here, David.’

‘Right-o.’ Amos accepted his dismissal with a good dummy4

grace. ‘Come on, Mr Levin – let’s admire the view for a moment, eh?’

Audley watched them for another moment, his mouth working. Then he returned to Fred. ‘B-b-Woody Mr L-L- Levin . . . has t-taken my fff – ’

‘Yes, I know.’ Fred had had just enough warning to nip the stuttering fuse before it became an explosive shout, so that he could turn towards the Germans. ‘Herr Zeitzler – ’ No! That was wrong! ‘ – Professor Zeitzler

– ’ He felt under-rehearsed in matters of greeting ‘ –

good morning, sir!’

Professor Zeitzler was less humiliatingly dressed (or, as he had been, half-dressed, undressed, and then uniformed) than the night before last. But he was still tall and very thin, and even with his spectacles safely on his nose he was still very far from happy.

‘Herr Major.’ The eyes behind the spectacles were wide with uncertainty; which was reasonable enough in the circumstances, even if ‘Herr Major’ had been a captain the last time they’d met.

‘I’m glad you were able to come, sir.’ Somehow, it wasn’t so hard to be polite to the man: he was, after all,

‘a decent chap’ (in Audley’s own words, from long ago); yet it wasn’t just that – or even because, if the man had never been an ally, he had also never truly been an enemy; it was just that he was what he looked like – just another middle-aged academic pacifist in a dummy4

mad world, fallen among soldiers. And that made it easier to pity him, even as Fred turned at last to the cause of all the trouble. ‘And you, sir.’

‘Herr Major.’ The Cause of All the Trouble gave him a formal little bow. But with it there was a look of understanding and resignation which turned Fred’s pity back on himself.

‘But . . . there were to be two officers only.’ Professor Zeitzler’s expression was less fearful now, after such politeness. ‘It was promised, sir – only yourself, and the . . . the large young officer.’

‘An added precaution.’ Sod you! thought Fred with sudden brutality. You’ve done your job now – it’s only Number 16 that matters now! So he concentrated on Number 16. ‘There are dangers, you understand, sir.’

‘I understand.’ Number 16 didn’t nod, but there was a strained greyness in his complexion and a wariness in his eyes which had nothing to do with any of the more recent privations of defeat: Fred had seen such masks before, on the faces of infantrymen who had been too long in the line.

‘But it is not as was arranged – not as was promised.’

Zeitzler looked at his friend as he emphasized the word before coming back to Fred. ‘A word of honour was given – by a senior British officer. And I – ’

‘Hush, Ernst.’ Number 16 cut Zeitzler off softly. ‘If a dummy4

word was given, then it was given. If it is to be broken . . . then it will be broken. We have already talked of that possibility. And I have made my choice, just as this officer has done.’ As he spoke, he never for one instant took his eyes off Fred; and, although not one of his words was stressed more than another, their challenge was plain enough.

So here was the first test, thought Fred. And it was as searching as the Brigadier had warned him it would be, by God!

‘You are free to go, sir. If you wish to do so.’ The enormity of the lie thickened his tongue inside his mouth as he committed himself finally to the acceptance of the truth about himself, which Clinton had apparently known before he did. ‘My superior’s word of honour is the same as mine.’

Again that terrible hint of pity, almost sardonic now.

Then I ask your pardon – shall I do that?‘

Did he know? Or had he mistaken those half-strangled words for honest outrage? Fred questioned himself desperately for an instant. ‘I think you’d do better to remember what happened the night before last, sir.’ He flicked a glance at Zeitzler. ‘I’m sure your friend has told you about that – ?’

‘Indeed he has.’ Still the man studied him. ‘The Russians want me, just as you want me. So they do not want you to have me ... even though all these desires dummy4

are foolish, of course – foolish beyond belief! For I am too much behind the times now. And especially since yesterday’s news – yesterday’s terrible news, Herr Major.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, I have heard of what has happened in Japan: it was on the wireless last night.’

Fred swallowed. ‘That’s not for me to comment on, sir.