Before we stopped completely I heard the nasty little ratchet sound of the Major cocking his revolver. He asked, ‘Les. Why are you stopping?’
‘I wish I could give you a sensible reason, Major, but the truth is, out of curiosity.’
‘Fair enough. But if I have to kill the bastard, on your head be it.’
By then we had pulled up a few yards short of the man and his little car. I couldn’t see the copper’s reinforcements either; there was just this dead-straight road, the copper and his car. He walked to Les’s side of the car, taking his time. Les had to open the door in order to speak to him. His Sten must have been in plain view.
The policeman said, ‘You are English?’
Les replied, ‘Yes. Support troops. We bring food and medicines to the civilians after the Army has moved through.’
‘That does not concern me.’
Did all the bastards in Germany speak perfect English? And if so, had they done so for years, or was it a fairly recent phenomenon practised in the face of the inevitable?
‘How can we help you?’
‘By paying your fine at the next functioning police office you encounter. I will not insist on this occasion that you divert from your route to pay it in the nearest police office: you must be in a hurry – invaders usually are.’
He was a man in his late forties. His respectable moustache was laced with grey. His eyes twinkled. Either he was as scared as I was, or he found the whole thing amusing.
Les grunted, and asked, ‘What fine?’
‘For driving at over the permitted speed. You passed a large black and white circular road sign a kilometre back. What was on it?’
‘The number forty,’ I told him, leaning over Les, who gently pushed me back, ‘and a lot of bullet holes.’
‘The bullet holes do not concern me. The numbers do: they state the maximum permitted speed at which a vehicle may travel. I am glad it is still there. You were travelling much faster than that. I calculate that you were exceeding seventy kilometres an hour. I will not permit that.’
Les was one of those guys who loved arguing with coppers, no matter where, and no matter about what.
‘How do you know that?’
‘If you look behind you will see seven trees alongside the road. I have measured the distance between them. I start my stopwatch as you pass the first, and stop it as you pass the seventh. From that, and the distance covered, I calculate your speed.’
‘Have you always been a policeman?’ I asked him.
‘No. Only since the war was declared. Before that I was a teacher of mathematics.’
Les gave a deep sigh, and said to nobody in particular, ‘Fuck it. He’s jobbing me for speeding.’
‘His calculation is likely to be correct, Les,’ I told him. ‘He’s a maths teacher.’
‘Too right!’ That was the Major. ‘Guilty as bloody charged, if you want my opinion.’
The policeman’s face would crack if he ever smiled.
‘Fined many people for speeding this morning, have you?’ Les again.
‘Three vehicles . . . and one for driving on the incorrect side of the road.’
‘I suppose that you have measured the width of the road as well?’
‘Yes, I have. The road is seven metres at this point. There were also two Americans in fighter aircraft,’ the policeman said, ‘but they would not stop when I signalled them.’
‘I wonder why.’
‘Les,’ the Major said, ‘cut to the fucking chase, and ask him how much the fine is.’
Les gave him the You must be kidding me look, but before he could open his mouth the policeman told James, ‘It will not be necessary for your driver to ask me again, Herr Major. I heard you the first time, and, unlike our glorious leader, I am neither deaf nor a fucking idiot. The fine is ten DM.’
‘Right.’ That was James. ‘May we pay you instead?’
‘No; you would pay in forged notes. I am not an expert, Herr Major.’
‘What about English money?’
‘English no; Scottish, maybe. I was informed that Scottish moneys are difficult to forge.’
‘Give him a bloody dollar, anyway, Charlie. He’s earned it.’
It wasn’t quite as simple as that. We had to wait until he had walked back to his car, had written out a speeding summons for Les, and brought it back. When he reached over Les to hand it to me he gave me our first smile. Then he said to Les, ‘Please be careful, driver. Now the war here is over, there are policemen with nothing to do, and many small townships that will feed their people from the proceeds of court fines. Do not get caught again.’
Les put on the wisecrack face. He said, ‘Look, Jerry. I don’t know how to say this best; but in case you didn’t notice, you’ve just been invaded. There won’t be any courts, except Allied ones, and they’ll be fully tied up trying Jerries like you for crimes against people an’ dumb animals.’
Our Jerry wiped his smile off, and went dead serious on us.
‘You are very wrong, Private. No matter what is lost in Germany, we will not lose our courts of justice. The spirit of Germany lives in its courts, and we Germans are the most litigious race in the world.’
‘You haven’t met the Americans yet,’ James told him.
‘I’m sure that we will get along well with the Americans.’
‘I’m sure you’re right,’ James said.
Nobody seemed to know how to finish the encounter. Les did it. He’d kept Kate ticking over. Now he did it: bang neutral, bang first gear, and let her roll. The policeman stepped back and saluted.
‘That man had balls,’ James told us.
‘Yeah, but they were between his
