It was the late spring of the year one thousand nine hundred and forty-five. In the state of Bavaria in Germany, the majority of the Nazi’s officers fled to prevent Death from the American men. They left white flags hanging on wooden sticks outside the windows of buildings. Some stayed, however, and stood alongside their country, albeit their definite chance of Death there.
Alfred was one of these men that had not quite wanted to leave. He had remained in his grey, square office and smoked a cigar as he looked out the window at the empty street below. He had been in that position for a collection of days, waiting for the people of the building to evacuate, for they all wished to leave the country now that the Fuhrer was dead.
And, when he saw the last of them drive away in their black vehicle, he left his cigar in an ashtray on his desk and exited his office graciously. He ran past his guard, Noah, who sat plainly on a wooden bench in the hall, reading a newspaper in German. He glanced quickly when he saw Alfred run past him, but he did not react in any other way, for he was accustomed to Alfred’s oddities. Alfred turned right down the hall and stopped at a room. He opened it with a key and inside there was darkness. He felt for the light switch on the left wall and flipped the switch.
The yellow light beamed and in that room, a man sitting on a toilet with a handkerchief tied around his mouth and head, and his arms were tied behind him. His eyes were wide and fearful at the sight of Alfred.
Alfred greeted him with a smile, “Nice to see you, Ernest.”
Ernest could not respond. Alfred untied the handkerchief from Ernest’s face.
“Good day to you, Ernest,”
“G-g-good day,” Ernest replied, he had not spoken in weeks.
“Let’s get you out of here, yes? I have a little game that I would like to play with you,”
They walked together out the ruined bathroom and to Alfred’s office. When Noah saw them, he stood up, and pulled his gun out immediately.
“Sir, what the hell are you doing?” He yelled and pointed the gun at Ernest, who failed to react for it was not the first time he had a gun pointed at him. Also, he had as much life as a leaf does, being pushed around by the wind. Alfred tugged him on.
“Put your goddamn gun away, Noah!” Alfred commanded and the young man did so.
“What will you be doing with him?” Noah asked.
“Nothing, we will simply have a talk. That is all,” Alfred said. They continued to his office and he dragged Ernest by the arms like a dog on a leash.
At the door, Alfred said, “Please, enter,” and motioned to the office. Ernest looked at Alfred with a terrified expression before the entering the office. Noah inspected both of them with a similar, shocked expression. Alfred closed the door behind them.
Ernest stood in the office, awaiting instruction from Alfred. Alfred untied his wrists from the rope and motioned him to sit in the chair with the back to the window. Alfred sat facing Ernest, in the chair near the door. His mahogany desk stood between them.
“It is true, Ernest. The war is over. The Fuhrer is dead,”
This was news to Ernest.
