Winfred

98

Official Report

British Intelligence

Code: 3986                                                                                                                                    

Kathleen Winfred

So many things had happened that were good.

Freidrich and I were happy.

Albert was back, and Pirot and he were happy.

I still got to speak with Jessica and Matthew and our friendships only grew stronger.

Virginia sent letters, and I could still communicate with her that way.

Her last letter had been congratulations for me and Freidrich. She had reminded me of a snowy day that seemed so long ago now. Part of her letter read as follows:

Do you remember when we had to shovel the snow? Do you remember how cold it was? Do you remember how the German soldiers pushed us, driving us to exhaustion?

Do you remember when I fell to the ground? Do you recall how you begged me to get up? To stand?

I remember how physically impossible standing felt. I remember that I felt as though just dying then and there would have been the kindest thing.

You and Jessica believed me to be a goner. I believed myself to be a goner.

But then Von Steubon showed up.

Then I really thought I would be facing death by some horrible method.

How surprised I was when the opposite happened. He helped me. He brought me inside. I was warm. He gave me food. Some sort of potatoes. A German dish; I’m not sure what it was called.

Do you remember when I told you and Jessica that it wasn’t fair the Germans had warm gloves when we did the shoveling and had none? And I wouldn’t say any more?

That was due to the fact that Von Steubon had told me that I could not tell anyone about how he had helped me.

I didn’t think it would hurt to mention the gloves though. You two were only confused and must have thought me half crazy. (The gloves comment came about because Von Steubon let me wear his gloves to warm my hands while we walked back to the prison.)

Anyways, count yourself lucky.

It’s a beautiful thing when you find the person in life that completes you. Von Steubon is a good man, something I did not believe upon my first meeting with him.

Congratulations, my friend. Hearing that two of you are together is beautiful news, and gives me something happy to think about on this dreary, rainy day.

-Virginia.

PS: You can tell Von Steubon that I apologize for the nasty thoughts I had towards him on our first meeting. He’s disproved them all and left me feeling very ashamed.

That letter had come two weeks ago.

The next on should be arriving about now, and I waited for it anxiously, excited to hear from my friend again.

I felt happy. I felt impossibly happy.

I couldn’t help but feel unsettled, however, the more time went on, and the more time passed when we were all happy.

Freidrich said it best.

He had been in his office for an hour or so, working, but as I occasionally passed his door, or entered his office to file a paper or hand him a report, I noticed that he looked troubled, almost as troubled as I felt on the inside.

I asked him what was wrong, and he shrugged.

“Nothing,” he said. At my look of disbelief, he shook his head. “Have you ever had the feeling that nothing is wrong, and you should be perfectly happy, but instead you can only feel that something bad is going to come along?”

I nodded, feeling instantly better just hearing him voice my own fears. It made me feel as if I were not going crazy, or being ridiculous.

He shook his head, looking as though he were thinking about the situation. “Foreboding,” he said. “That’s it. I just…there’s this sense of foreboding.”

“It’s war,” I said. “And that’s why this time of happiness feels almost…wrong. I can’t help but feel that something is going to happen.”

Freidrich nodded, before looking up and taking the report I had brought in for him. He sighed. “I suppose worrying about it won’t prepare us anyways,” he said. “But still…” He gave me a small smile, before returning to his work.

I returned to mine, and the sense of foreboding followed me.