A New Kind of War

mosquitoes and uncomfortably heroic Japanese, and suchlike . . .

Loonies led by the Chief Lunatic himself, Colonel Augustus Colbourne. Because he’s our best cover, by God!’

They were precisely back to the moment when Amos de Souza had first detached him from Audley, in the company office.

Audley nodded, as though he had caught Fred’s thought. ‘He is a looney, you know.’ Nod. ‘Bloody clever with it, admittedly.

Would have been a King’s Counsel long since, if there hadn’t been a war, for sure by now: Mr Augustus Colbourne, KC . . . Sir Augustus Colbourne – Mr Justice Colbourne – Lord Colbourne –

Amos says he was absolutely brilliant in court, even as a fledgling barrister . . . But quite mad, nevertheless.’

Fred could only remember the stark naked Colonel Colbourne, variously sunburned and white, and hairy, but utterly unconcerned.

But then another memory surfaced. ‘Where did he get his DSO?’

Audley gave him a sly look. ‘Oh . . . that was a good one, apparently: 8th Army, Desert Rats, ’42 – rallying the ranks at Alam Haifa, or somewhere. Amos says that if he’d been killed doing it, then it might have been a VC –he was only a captain at the time too.‘ The tousled head shook. ’Oh, he’s brave. But, for our purposes, he’s mad. Probably got too much sun in the desert, and it fried his brains.‘ The boy shrugged, and then gestured suddenly into the gloom around them. ’You know where we are – ? Eh – ?‘

That certainly was quite mad. ‘A ... Roman fort, Amos said –’

‘A Roman fort – right!’ Audley nodded. ‘The Kaiser rebuilt a fort just like this, on the old Roman frontier line – not far from here at dummy4

the Saalburg, back at the turn of the century, near Bad Homburg.

So this German industrialist – one of Krupp’s subsidiary suppliers

– he rebuilt another fort, on another original Roman site also on the limes, as they call it. And then he dedicated it to the Emperor Hadrian and Kaiser Wilhelm, right here. So we’re in the headquarters building of that fort right now –the “principia” –

which is cold, and dark, and draughty, and generally unpleasant . . .

instead of some agreeable American requisitioned premises, which Colonel Colbourne would certainly get, for the asking. Because he’s a great favourite with the Yanks, actually.’

Fred recalled his reception. ‘Because of his ... pigs?’

‘Otto’s pigs. And other things.’ Nod. ‘And because he insists that we all behave with unfailing politeness to our allies.’ Smile. ‘Also, he has a rich American wife, wooed on the Queen Mary before the war.’

‘He doesn’t sound . . . too mad, David.’

‘No? Well ... if I tell you that he believes he’s the reincarnation of Caesar Augustus – Julius Caesar’s nephew, who more or less invented the Roman Empire – ? The first Roman emperor – ?’ The smile became fixed. ‘Actually, he’s not really interested in Germany, A.D. 1945. It’s Roman Germania, A.D. 9, that he’s concerned with.’

He couldn’t be serious. ‘You’re not serious – ? Are you?’

‘No.’ Audley scratched his head. ‘Just. . . half serious.’

‘Half serious?’ Suddenly Fred remembered Colbourne’s irrational enthusiasm for photography’s revelation of the ancient past.

dummy4

‘How?’

‘How?’ Audley looked at him questioningly, and then at the doorway, and then came back to him. ‘We really ought to be joining the others now, don’t you think?’

Fred identified a mixture of hunger and despair in the young man’s expression, and knew that he shared the first, but not the second.

‘Of course. But just one thing, David –’

‘One thing – ?’ A glint of hope now. ‘What d’you want to know?’

In victory . . . caution. ‘You said Colonel Colbourne was . . . “our best cover”, was it?’ He paused for a fraction of a second before popping the vital question again, but now confident that he would get the vital answer.

‘Oh – Christ, yes!’ Audley forestalled him. ‘Everybody knows that Gus Colbourne’s only interested in one thing! The Yanks know it –

the bloody Russkis know it too, I shouldn’t wonder . . . Every bugger knows it, for sure! All he’s interested in is finding the long lost site of the battle of the Teutoburg Forest, where the Germans wiped out three Roman legions in the year A.D. 9 – where General Varus came unstuck.’

‘What – ?’ The young man’s bitter vehemence caught Fred unprepared in his moment of victory. ‘Varus – ?’

‘Varus. Publius Quinctilius Varus – “Varus, Fluch auf dich! Redde Legiones!” , as Otto says . . . Although Varus did have the grace to fall on his sword when all was lost, unlike von Paulus at Stalingrad, Otto also says.’

Otto says, like Amos says? With his mixture of German