Winfred

34

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986

Kathryn Winfred

Today Von Steubon, a Lieutenant I had never seen before, Schwab, and Albert did inspections of the prison. We were expected to clean up our cell as best as possible (not hard, since there was not much to clean up) and stand straight, next to our cot, presenting ourselves for inspection.

Schwab glared at everyone sourly, frowning and scribbling copious notes on his clipboard which he occasionally presented to Von Steubon. Von Steubon did not seem to care for Schwab’s notes, as he simply glanced over them and returned the clipboard to the glaring soldier.

This lack of attention angered Schwab all the more and by the time the inspectors reached my cell, Schwab was in the worst mood I’d ever seen him in.

Schubert, accompanying Von Steubon as always, was peering out from behind his master’s boots, wagging his tale and giving me an occasional bark of greeting. Von Steubon, Albert, and the lieutenant (whose name I later learned was Lieutenant Grossman) continued to concentrate on the inspection, ignoring Schubert, but I could tell that Schwab was fast wearing thin, his fists clenched by his sides and his lips pressed together tightly, his brows furrowed and his eyes angry.

Finally it seemed to grow too much for Schwab, as he rounded on Schubert and told the little dog to “shut up before I kick you across the room”.

I could only watch as Von Steubon turned slowly to face Schwab, Schubert cowering behind him. Von Steubon is slightly shorter than Schwab, and yet Heinrich Schwab looked as if he were shrinking back into himself in the face of his Captain’s clear displeasure.

“What was that, Schwab?”

Schwab didn’t answer, glancing guiltily at Schubert.

I believed that, now that Von Steubon knew that Schwab was clearly sorry, he would turn around and continue the inspection.

He did not.

“I don’t believe I heard you correctly,” he continued on. Schwab still refused to speak.

“Since you appear to have fallen silent, Schwab, and refuse to tell me what you said, you may take up your gun tonight and go stand guard duty at the gates outside.”

Schwab looked quite sour about this but nodded stiffly.

It was quite cold outside that night, and I did not envy Schwab, but I did, I will admit, enjoy seeing him receive his due.

When I looked out the small square window high up on my wall, I could only make out one hunched shadow by the gates and knew that Schwab had, indeed, received his retribution.