Colonel Berry

Chapter Seventeen

David smiled inwardly he when left the Commandant's office. He likely had a shorter meeting in mind. Then, maybe not. Karl said he had seen me as a potential recruit. First approach is delicate. Takes time to fish. He knows Grandpa's sympathies, and I've been open with mine...

As he strode along the corridor, his long legs moving him swiftly, a loud voice behind him interrupted his thoughts. "No running inside, Rekruit."

Not running, just walking fast. Can't say that, though. He stopped and turned. "Rushing to my lecture, Wachtmeister. Don't want to be late."

"What are you doing in here? This area is for staff."

"The Commandant had asked to see me, and I was escorted to his office, Wachtmeister. I'm coming from meeting with him."

The sergeant gave a loud harrumph. "Hustle along. Don't run, though."

He continued his fast walk along the hallway. Officious. But that's the nature of recruit training. Saw that in Quebec and... He shook himself out of his thoughts when Wengen said from behind the Orderly Room counter, "That was quick."

"Simply needed to set up a meeting for tomorrow, Korporal." He glanced at his watch and pointed toward the exit. "Must rush, else I'll be late."

David arrived in the lecture hall with a half minute to spare, and he took his accustomed seat against the rear wall, working at regulating his breathing as he read the topic chalked on the slate on the front wall: Call of Shot. And its subtitle: Triangulation and Adjustments.

On Saturday morning, David had been assigned an instructional mentor, Leutnant Hoffman, who had discussed the fundamentals of critiquing lecturers. So, David's first task at the beginning of the fifth week of the course was to practice writing critiques. During the presentation, he jotted notes on the instructor's techniques, commenting on his strengths and suggesting how his weaknesses might be improved.

Among other things, he watched the response of the students, noting points they had difficulty understanding. At the end of the presentation, he reviewed his notes, thinking, A fine way to have me recognise all these. Witness how not to do it, rather than being told how to.

As the students left the hall for a break, Leutnant Hoffman sat beside David. "Did you make many observations?"

"I did, and I need to expand on these jottings while the impressions are still fresh. Much of this is in point form."

The officer extended his hand. "May I?"

David chuckled. "It's my fast scribble. Might be difficult to decipher." He handed him his notebook. "These three pages."

"Three?" Hoffman shook his head. "Few get as much as half a page." He scanned through the notes, nodding, and when he had finished, he asked, "You've done this before, haven't you?"

"No, Sir. Not formally, anyway." He shrugged. "But often to relieve the tedium of university lectures, I would analyse why I was bored, then think of what would make the presentation exciting." He shrugged again. "Professors may be superb fonts of knowledge, but some of them have little skill in imparting it. In sharing their gems and insights in exciting ways so the students pay attention and absorb the information."

Hoffman handed the notebook back. "I now see why you were chosen for instructor training. My profession is teaching, and I'm doing my national service during Schaffhauser Gymnasium's Easter break." He pointed to the notebook and smiled. "Continue doing these. Maybe we can improve the level of teaching here."

"So, our instructors on this course are all performing their two-week national service?"

"Some are part of the permanent Army, though many are rotating through like me." Hoffman pointed to the podium. "Your last one is an accountant."

David nodded as he thought. That explains the level of technique.

Tuesday, 18 April 1916

On Tuesday morning, David again did a penis survey in the showers to confirm the previous day's assessment. Same. Maria said small ones more than double in length. Even those two-inchers would be more than adequate. He looked again at the one buried in pubes. That one would be awkward. 

After inspection and breakfast, David attended a stationary drill session and two lectures as he continued with his instructor assessments. When the students were dismissed for lunch, he headed around the quadrangle to the admin wing and along the corridor to the Orderly Room.

Korporal Wengen greeted him. "The Commandant asked me to escort you to his office as soon as you arrived." He motioned along the hall and led the way.

Major Frankenthal welcomed David in and told him to close the door, then he said, "You have something for me."

"I do." David took his wallet from his pocket, pulling a slip of paper from it and unfolding it before handing it to the Major.

Frankenthal nodded as he laid it on the desk beside his half.

The two stared at the note in silence for a while, then David thrust out his hand to shake. "Welcome to the expanding network, Horst. Please call me David."

Horst shook his head. "This is far more complex than I had imagined.".

"It is. And far more than I had conceived last year."

"How had you connected with the British?"

"Why do you think I have?"

"The tunnel is British, and Karl says here you run it."

David paused and thought. Does he need to know? Of course, he does, else this goes nowhere. "I'm Canadian." He shrugged. "The Ypres story is real, except I was on the receiving side of the assault."

"And your family?"

"Also real. Fleeing from Germany, the winery, all of it, except for this identity," He tugged on the front of his tunic, "In this, I'm my wife's brother."

Horst blew out a deep breath. "So far beyond what I had imagined." He stood nodding in silence for a while before he asked, "And in your other identity?" 

Yes, he needs to know this as well. "Lieutenant-Colonel David Berry, British Military Attaché to Switzerland."

"We're into the deeply serious here, aren't we?"

David nodded. "We are."

"So, how do we..." Horst paused at the knock on the door.