A Man Without Breath

‘No,’ I said, positioning myself immediately behind the door. ‘Now disarm that fucking bomb before we both find out the true meaning of Heroes Memorial Day.’

Von Gersdorff nodded and walked over to a row of washhandbasins. ‘Actually, there are two bombs,’ he said, and from the pockets of his greatcoat he carefully withdrew two flat objects that were each about the size of a rifle magazine. ‘The explosives are British. Clam mines used for sabotage. Odd that the Tommy ordnance for this kind of work should be better than ours. But the fuses are German. Ten-minute mercury sticks.’

‘Well, it’s good that we can make something right,’ I said. ‘Makes me feel really proud.’

‘I’m not so sure about that,’ he said. ‘I can’t understand why they haven’t gone off yet.’

Someone pushed at the lavatory door and I opened it just a crack. It was Wetzel again, his long hooked nose and thin moustache looking very ratlike through the gap in the door.

‘Is everything all right, Captain Gunther?’ he asked.

‘Better find another one,’ I told him. ‘The colonel’s being sick, I’m afraid.’

‘Do you want me to have someone fetch a mop and a bucket?’

‘No,’ I said. ‘There’s no need for that. Look, it’s kind of you to offer your help but the colonel is a bit of a mess, so it might be best if you left us alone for a minute, all right?’

Wetzel glanced over my shoulder as if he didn’t quite believe my story.

‘Sure?’

‘Sure.’

He nodded and went away, and I looked anxiously around to see Von Gersdorff carefully withdrawing the fuses from one of the mines.

‘It’ll be me throwing up if you don’t hurry up and defuse those things,’ I said. ‘That fucking Gestapo captain is going to come back any minute. I just know he is.’

‘I still don’t understand why the leader left so quickly,’ said Von Gersdorff. ‘I was about to show him Napoleon’s hat. Left behind in his coach after Waterloo and recovered by Prussian soldiers.’

‘Napoleon was defeated. Perhaps he doesn’t like to be reminded of that. Especially now we’re doing so well in Russia.’

‘Yes, perhaps. Nor do I really understand why you’re helping me.’

‘Let’s just say I hate to see a brave man blow himself up just because he’s dumb enough to forget he’s got a bomb in his pocket. How’s it coming along?’

‘Are you nervous?’

‘Whatever gave you that idea? I always get a kick out of being near explosives that are about to go off. But next time I’ll be sure to wear some armour plating underneath my coat and some earplugs.’

‘I’m not that brave, you know,’ he said. ‘But since my wife died, last year-’

Von Gersdorff removed the second fuse and dropped the two mercury sticks into the lavatory.

‘Are they safe?’ I asked.

‘Yes,’ he said, pocketing the two mines again. ‘And thank you. I don’t know what came over me. I suppose I must have just frozen – like a rabbit caught in a car’s headlights.’

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘that’s certainly what it looked like.’

He came to attention immediately in front of me, clicked his heels and bowed his head.

‘Rudolf Christoph Freiherr von Gersdorff,’ he said. ‘At your service, captain. Whom do I have the honour of thanking?’

‘No.’ I smiled and shook my head. ‘No, I don’t think so.’

‘I don’t understand. I should like to know your name, captain. And then I should like to take you to my club and buy us both a drink. To calm our nerves. It’s just around the corner.’

‘That’s kind of you, Colonel von Gersdorff. But perhaps it’s best you don’t know who I am. Just in case the Gestapo should ask you for a list of all the people who helped you organize this little disaster. Besides, it’s hardly the kind of name that someone like you would ever remember.’

Von Gersdorff straightened perceptibly, as if I had suggested he was a Bolshevik. ‘Are you suggesting that I would ever betray the names of brother officers? Of German patriots?’

‘Believe me, everyone has his limit where the Gestapo is concerned.’

‘That would not be the conduct of an officer and a gentleman.’

‘Of course it wouldn’t. And that’s why the Gestapo don’t employ officers and gentlemen. They employ sadistic thugs who can break a man as easily as one of those mercury sticks of yours.’

‘Very well,’ he said. ‘If that’s the way you want it.’

Von Gersdorff walked stiffly toward the lavatory door like a man – or more accurately an aristocrat – who had been grossly insulted by a common little captain.

‘Wait a minute, colonel,’ I said. ‘There’s a particularly nosy Gestapo officer outside that door who believes you came in here to throw up. At least, I hope he does. I’m afraid it was the only story I could think of in the circumstances.’ I ran the tap to fill one of the basins. ‘Like I say, he’s a suspicious bastard and he already smells a rat, so we’d better make my story look a little more convincing, don’t you think? Come here.’

‘What are you going to do?’

‘Save your life, I hope.’ I scooped some water into my hands and threw it into the front of his tunic. ‘And mine, perhaps. Here, hold still.’

‘Hang on. This is my dress uniform.’