Official Report
British Intelligence
Code: 3986
Kathleen Winfred
The next day, the progression of events was more normal.
We chopped wood in the morning. Albert and Pirot stood guard over our small group and chopping the wood was much more pleasant than usual. We all laughed when Albert successfully managed to sneak up and throw a snowball at Pirot. Pirot tried to chase after him but fell over in the snow, to Albert’s great amusement.
Aside from this bit of entertainment, Albert had managed to swipe a sleeve of crackers from the kitchen, which he passed around, each of us taking two crackers.
We highly doubted that the other chopping groups had as good of a time as we did.
Indeed, I felt somewhat bad when Virginia returned later in the day, her shoulders slumped and her expression tired as she recounted to us her day in Heinrich Schwab’s woodcutting group.
The evening brought the return of interrogations.
As I was going to tell Von Steubon nothing, our interrogation mostly consisted of silence on my part. I did, however, notice for the first time that Von Steubon seemed to ask the questions and wait for answers as a mere formality. As a requirement.
In a moment of boldness, I met his gaze and said, “You know that I only gave you false information.”
He only put down the pen he had been holding, his expression did not change in the least. “Of course.”
That was the end of the half-hour for interrogations and I was returned to my cell.
YOU ARE READING
Winfred
Historical FictionThe Women's Guard, The Soldier, The Nazi, The Spy. The Spy turned Prisoner. As they say, dead men (or women, as the case may be) tell no tales. But Kathleen Winfred isn't dead; she managed to escape. Now, the story of her capture by Nazis in occup...
