troops, most of whom, however, were loading up into carts, wagons, trucks and armoured vehicles ready for the advance up the Gudbrandsdal valley. A short way off the road, above the village, Scheidt watched a burial party lining up bodies of German dead in a grey-looking field. By the side of the road the legs of two dead horses pointed stiffly skywards. A burnt-out truck, stripped and skeletal, lay turned over in a ditch, while opposite, a column of dishevelled British and Norwegian prisoners were being ushered into trucks. Kurz drove slowly, weaving through the bottleneck of troops and vehicles, passing bombed-out houses, piles of rubble and charred timber. Even in the close confines of the Citroen, the smell of a recently fought battle was pervasive.
Eventually Kurz turned off the road and down to the station. Two guards presented arms as they entered the building. Inside, clerks and staff officers were busy organizing the next German thrust down the valley. Phones rang, typewriters clattered. Scheidt and Kurz were led upstairs to see Major von Poncets, who greeted them with the affability he had shown the previous day.
'Congratulations, Herr Major,' said Scheidt. 'Another easy victory, just as you predicted.'
'More costly than I'd hoped, but thank you,' he replied. 'And I'm sorry I don't have better news for you regarding Odin. Those men the Norwegians are with clearly have more steel than we had appreciated.'
'Where is Hauptmann Zellner?' asked Scheidt.
'He'll be here any moment. I sent him to get a new uniform.'
'And what now?' asked Scheidt. 'When will you mount another search?'
Von Poncets smiled, and offered both men a cigar, which Kurz accepted and Scheidt declined. 'The Tommies have fallen back a long way, it seems. Our recce boys have been flying up and down the valley since first light and there's little sign of them. It's one thing advancing a few kilometres, but to shift our entire forces any distance takes time. We're moving most of our men out today—'
'So we saw,' said Kurz.
'Yes, well, most will be gone by this evening. Nearly all the men you saw were from the four battalions of the 324th and 345th Infantry Regiments, but there is also Artillery Regiment 223 to move, a further machine-gun battalion, a number of panzers and, of course, my own men. Then there are all the accompanying equipment, ammunition, rations and so on, which must be in place before we can attack again. It's easy for the defenders to cover ground quickly because they only take what they can. We have to be better prepared. So.' He clapped his hands together. 'What am I trying to say to you? I'm saying we have something of a respite on our hands.'
'Which means you have time to find Odin?' asked Scheidt.
'Yes, I think so,' smiled von Poncets. 'I'm going to give one of my own companies this particular task. I'm sorry - I thought a platoon would be more than enough. I was wrong.'
'An under-strength platoon,' added Scheidt. 'There was a group missing, if you remember.'
'Yes, well, we won't make that mistake again.'
There was a knock on the door. 'Come,' called out the Major. Zellner entered, freshly shaved and wearing a new uniform. 'Much better, Hauptmann, much better,' said von Poncets, cheerfully.
Zellner saluted. His right eye was swollen and blackened and, Scheidt noticed, much of the swagger of the day before had gone. Zellner began quickly, 'I would like to say, Herr Reichsamtsleiter and Herr Sturmbann fuhrer, that I apologize unreservedly for failing in my duty yesterday. I underestimated the strength of the enemy and allowed Odin to slip through my grasp, a gross dereliction on my part.'
Scheidt raised a hand to silence him. 'All right, Hauptmann. Now tell me who was there.'
Zellner did so. Yes, he had seen a middle-aged man with spectacles and a moustache. There were two other Norwegians, a few French mountain troops and the rest were British. A French officer seemed to be in charge. 'He's weak, though,' Zellner told them. 'He questioned me and his interrogation was pathetic. Furthermore, he did it in full view of Odin.'
'You told him nothing?' asked Kurz.
'Of course not. He wouldn't touch me - a fellow officer. He's too concerned with behaving honourably.'
'You don't believe in honour?' asked Kurz.
'Only my own, that of my regiment and of Germany. There was a British sergeant there who would have had us killed, I think. The Frenchman - Chevannes is his name - was horrified.'
'So if they are led by this man, how did they defeat you?' Kurz asked.
Zellner bristled. 'The sergeant is good. His name is Tanner. Chevannes does not like him, but he's a clever soldier. He also has a sniper rifle with sights. It was how he ambushed us first. And he has explosives.'
'A good right hook too?' Von Poncets grinned.
Zellner looked down, embarrassed. He regretted having admitted to the major that he had been knocked out cold by the British sergeant. 'Yes, sir.'
'How old is this man?' asked Kurz.
'Young - in his twenties. My age, probably.'
'So, not in the last war.'
'No, quite definitely not. But he has been decorated - I saw a ribbon on his tunic. I only saw it briefly, but it was striped, blue, white and red.'
'The Military Medal,' said Kurz. 'A gallantry award for men in the ranks.' He turned to von Poncets and Scheidt. 'We've had Poland in which to hone our battle skills, but the British have had their empire. Colonial skirmishes.' He grinned.
'It appears to have done them little good,' said von Poncets. 'Perhaps they were expecting us to attack with spears.' At that even Zellner managed to smile.
'Is there anything else we should know?' Scheidt asked the Hauptmann.
'Two of their men were killed and three wounded. Naturally I made a note of their strength. They are now sixteen strong, not including Odin.'
'Very good, Zellner, you may rejoin your men,' said von Poncets.
'Sir?' said Zellner. Von Poncets looked up. 'Sir, I would like your permission to stay here and help find Odin.'
'Thank you, Hauptmann,' the major replied, 'but that won't be necessary.'
'Wait,' said Scheidt. 'There is logic in continuing to use Hauptmann Zellner and his men, Herr Major. His knowledge of the enemy would be useful, surely.'
Von Poncets drew on his cigar and nodded slowly. 'Very well. Zellner, you may continue the hunt for Odin.'
Zellner thanked them. 'I vowed I would kill Sergeant Tanner, and I will,' he explained. 'And I will also bring you Odin. You have my word.'
'That's enough, Hauptmann,' said von Poncets. 'You've made your position clear.'
'Hauptmann,' added Scheidt, 'I don't care about your personal vendettas, but I cannot stress enough the importance of finding Odin - alive.'
Zellner saluted again and left them.
Zellner walked back towards the village and the troop dressing station where he had left his men. His interview with the Reichsamtsleiter and SD Sturmbannfuhrer had gone well, he supposed, but the shame of losing so many men and of failing in his mission was hard to bear. Anger and frustration hung over him like a dead weight. Tanner, he thought. If it hadn't been for that Tommy sergeant it would have been so different. He had not realized it was possible to hate a man so intensely.
At the dressing station, he moved uneasily through the rows of men. Some were on stretchers, swathed in bloodied bandages, others sitting or squatting on the ground. The air in the tent was putrid. Men groaned and cried out. He spotted three men lying side by side, two Tommies and a Frenchman. He paused beside them, his mind
