Colonel Berry

Chapter Two

David's mind spun when he heard his name mentioned. What's this about? Surely they haven't access to German records.

The officer pointed to him. "I'm still interviewing him, Frau Ullman." After a short pause, he stood and motioned to the door. "Come with me, Herr Meier. I'll have you wait outside his office while I attend to this."

As they arrived at the Commandant's office, the Administration Officer indicated a chair along the hallway. "Please wait there."

David sat and reviewed what he had told the officer. It all fits. It's all logical. And except for German and Canadian records, it's all verifiable. Surely they don't have access to those. Besides, why would they need to have —

His thoughts were interrupted by Frau Ullman's voice, and he focused on her words. "... this way, Herr Meier. Major Frankental wishes to see you now." She escorted him into the office.

"So, Leutnant Ackerman tells me you wish to avoid the repetitious drill and discipline indoctrination." Major Frankental laughed as he lifted pages from his desk.

David dropped his shoulders and nodded. "If it is possible, Sir. My shortness of breath might make it difficult, and besides, I've already had the harsh German version."

"Your grandfather wrote to suggest the same thing." The major scanned a page. "I worked with Oberst Smeaton during joint exercises on the Rhein several times before he retired. I respect his opinion."

David relaxed further as he listened to the Commandant continue. "There are many ways to fulfil your national service. We're always looking for instructors, and your grandfather had written that you have an aptitude for teaching."

"I enjoy sharing knowledge and helping people understand it, Sir."

"Good!" The major knocked on his desk. "You'll attend all lectures, drill training and field exercises with the rest of your platoon, but rather than participating, you'll observe the instructors to learn both the information and the teaching techniques."

"Thank you, Sir. I'm honoured to have this opportunity."

"It will be hard work. You're required to excel in learning the course material, and at the same time, you'll be mentored in instructional technique, and your teaching ability will be assessed. In effect, you're taking two courses at once."

"Only two? Then it will be far easier than university, Sir." He smiled. "I always took additional courses to relieve the boredom."

The major tapped the letter on his desk. "As your grandfather wrote." He looked up at Leutnant Ackerman. "Take Rekrut Meier back to the Orderly Room and inform Korporal Wengen of our decision."

As they walked along the hallway, David asked Ackerman, "Is this a normal procedure, Sir?"

"Only when we recognise recruits with skills and aptitudes such as yours. We wish it happened more frequently at the beginning of the course, but often we don't spot instructional candidates until several weeks along."

After Ackerman had briefed Wengen and left, the corporal handed a thick folder to David and explained its contents. Then he pulled a map from another folder, marked three circles on it and pointed. "We're here, your barracks are here, and this is the dining hall. Find a bed, have lunch and be back in your barrack room for thirteen thirty."

"I've left my motorcar in the courtyard out front. Is there a better place for me to leave it?"

"No, it's fine there." Wengen tilted his head. "You've a motorcar?"

"I travel a lot, and it's more convenient than trains and taxis."

"And what is your travel?"

David held up his watch as he glanced at it. "Selling these. But I'll miss lunch if I don't hurry." He picked up his satchel, thanked the corporal and headed along the hall, following his map out into the quadrangle and around it to his barracks.

Well organised, he thought as he read the information chalked on a slate on an easel in the small foyer:

     A-Fol – Stube 1
     For-Lo – Stube 2
     Lu-Ram – Stube 3
     Rat-Z – Stube 4

He found Stube 3, and inside, he selected one of the few cots unmarked with luggage or other signs of having been claimed. Twenty past noon. I'm one of the last. He set his folder of papers on the trunk at the foot of his cot, placed his satchel on top of it and headed out, following his map to the dining hall.

The line up at the steam table was short, and so was the food selection. As he moved along adding items to his plate, he thought, Appears much more appetising than the stodge the Brits serve. Near the rear of the hall, he found a table with unoccupied seats and two men just beginning to eat. "Hello, I'm David," he said as he sat.

"Helmut," one said, and the other introduced himself as Wilm before they both returned to their lunches. David ate in silence with them until two more men arrived and sat to shovel food into their mouths. Seems food is also scarce here with the war; not only in Germany. I hadn't even considered that.

Three more sat to fill the table, and they also attacked their lunches with silent gusto. When he saw the one seated beside him had slowed his eating and was beginning to examine his surroundings, David caught his eye. "I'm not familiar with the city. Are you from here?"

"I know it a little, but I'm from Thayngen, a village in the northeast, beside the German border. And you?"

"I'm from Trasadingen." David chuckled. "A village in the southwest beside the German border."

"Did they also close the border crossing there?"

David nodded. "Yes, but it reopened last spring."

"Ours is still closed. Now instead of nine kilometres, it's eighty to our market in Singen. All the way around through Konstanz."

"What do you produce?"

"Barley, wheat and rye. Because of the added cost of transportation, we're now selling it in Schaffhausen at a lower price."

"Better to feed ourselves than the Germans."

The man put a finger to his mouth and looked around, then he leaned to David's ear and spoke in a low voice. "I agree, but it's best not to say that. It's still an unpopular attitude among many."

"But it's changing as the atrocities increase." He extended his hand to shake. "I'm David."

"Horst. Yes, but the change is slow. You're also from a rural area. What does your family grow?"

"Wine." David smiled. "Two estates and three generations involved in growing and making it."

"My father has expanded our family production of lager, hoping to find a market to give us a better return from our grain. He has dreams of eventually fermenting all of it."

"If the quality is good, it will sell itself." David shrugged. "It needs only to be properly presented."

"That will be my job after I finish this training."

"I can offer advice if you wish. I was studying business and marketing before the war interfered."

"Thank you." Horst tilted his head. "How has the war interfered with your studies?"

"It's a complex story." David glanced at his watch. "We should head back to the barracks for our thirteen thirty meeting."