A New Kind of War

floor, that he would also have moved after that order from the adjutant. Particularly this adjutant.

‘Now then Freddie – ’ Major de Souza indicated the open doorway, out of which Audley had vanished ‘ – shall we go then?’

Fred let himself be shepherded out of the office, into the gathering gloom of the cloister.

‘To your left.’ But then de Souza closed the door behind him, and locked it carefully, turning a key-on-a-chain in a heavy padlock as Fred waited for him. And, as he waited, he drew into his nose a faint savoury cooking smell, which must have drifted from somewhere round the colonnaded square, because the steady downpour still glinted in the open space in its centre, and that would have damped down such smells.

‘He’s a good boy, is David.’ De Souza pointed their direction.

‘Very bright ... if he lives, he’ll go far, as they say . . . but quite out of his depth, I’m afraid.’

‘Yes?’ For a man who was supposed to know what he was about, Fred still felt nonplussed.

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‘Too young – far too young.’ De Souza led the way. ‘Fred – Fred, our lord and master ... he should never have lumbered us with him.

And Colonel Colbourne shouldn’t have accepted him.’ He stopped abruptly outside another door, and rapped his knuckles on it. This is men’s work. And boys aren’t up to it, no matter how bright they are – ‘

‘ Come!’ A high voice, almost querulous, invited them from the other side of the door.

‘A great pity, really.’ De Souza ignored the voice, staring at Fred in the light of a hurricane lamp hanging on a bracket on one of the pillars of the colonnade. This’ll spoil him. Because he can’t really understand what he’s doing. He’s got a scholarship waiting up at Cambridge. So ... he’s done his regimental bit, in Normandy ... so they should have let go of him.‘ He grasped the doorhandle. ’A pity – a great pity – ‘

‘Wait!’ There were so many questions which Fred couldn’t ask now that he didn’t know what to ask. He only knew that he didn’t want to go straight into that room.

‘What?’ De Souza stared at him.

‘ Come!’ The invitation was repeated.

A useless question surfaced. ‘What is this place?’

‘Huh! It’s a Roman fort.’ De Souza didn’t seem surprised. ‘A Roman auxiliary fort on the limes, in the Taunus, rebuilt by a rich German in the nineteenth century. The last unit to occupy this place, before us, was Cohors IV Britannorum Equitata, in the second century after the birth of Christ. Which makes us the dummy4

second British contingent up here, on the Taunus. Which is probably why we’re here now, actually – ’ The doorhandle rattled, and de Souza let go of it, and the door began to open.

‘Who’s that?’ The voice came out of the gap, still high-pitched, but irritated now.

‘It’s Amos, sir.’ De Souza stood back from the door. ‘Major Fattorini has just arrived. I’ve got him with me.’

The door opened wide, and de Souza sprang to attention and saluted as it did so. So Fred did the same, but not so smartly, because the Colonel was stark naked.

‘Whisper-whisper-whisper – huh!’ The Colonel waved a large sponge at them with his saluting hand, dripping water all round him. ‘What were you whispering about, Amos?’

‘I wasn’t whispering, sir.’ De Souza addressed his naked CO with cool deference. ‘I was merely explaining to Major Fattorini that this is a Roman fort.’

‘Yes?’ Colonel Colbourne lowered his sponge and peered at Fred.

‘Doesn’t he know a Roman fort when he sees one, then?’

‘I was explaining that the last British unit to be billeted here was Cohors IV Equitata.’ De Souza avoided answering this lunatic question with what Fred suspected was well-oiled adroitness.

The Colonel dropped Fred in preference for de Souza, raising his left arm and sponging his armpit as he did so. ‘There’s too much whispering going on, Amos. Whenever I come round a corner there are other ranks and NCOs whispering as though they’re bargaining with each other –as though they’re selling things . . .

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which they probably are. And I don’t like it. And I won’t have it. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’ De Souza paused. ‘I’ll tell them to speak up.’ He paused again. ‘So that we can hear what they’re selling. Right, sir.’

‘Good.’ The Colonel dropped de Souza this time. ‘Major Fattorini

– I know your aunt’s sister . . . Aunt-by-marriage, that would be?’

He began to sponge the lower part of his body absently. ‘An Armstrong – your aunt?’

Major de Souza kicked Fred’s leg quite painfully under cover of the shadows.

‘Yes, sir.’ The pain concentrated his mind. ‘My mother is an Armstrong.’

‘That’s right.’ Colonel Colbourne turned back to de Souza, shifting his weight so that he could sponge between his legs. ‘I know full well what they’re up to. And I know there’s precious little we can do about it – corrupt, and corrupted, they are – it’s the same with all armies of occupation – even though Mr Levin and I have hand picked them. And it’ll get worse before it gets better – if it ever does get better. But at least we can fire a shot over their heads ...

So you can post Sergeant Devenish, for a start. And see that it’s a Far East posting, too. That’ll frighten ’em, by God!‘