A Kiss for the Enemy by David Fraser Read Free Book Online Page A

was to come out all right.
    Next morning they explored Herzenburg. The previous evening had been highly enjoyable. Lamps set in fantastically wrought iron brackets had lit the narrow streets from one
Bierstube
to another. In each there had been singing, the music of the accordion, stamping of feet, an atmosphere of exuberant welcome. Marcia’s face had sparked instant but generally good mannered attention, and their adequate command of German had quickly brought brother and sister on easy terms with the large number of young people celebrating the evening.
    â€˜Is it always like this?’
    â€˜No, they told me at that last place. It’s some sort of special jamboree – a traditional thing, an anniversary of the town’s liberation from somebody or other in the seventeenth century. In the Thirty Years’ War, I imagine. Or from the French, perhaps.’
    â€˜Well, at least that’s a long way away from the Party, and all that,’ said Marcia. They almost succeeded in forgetting the old Jew hanging outside the town wall as they moved to yet another cheerful, musical crowd of handsome young.
    As next morning they walked out into the town’s main street Marcia stopped with a sense of shock.
    â€˜Was it like this when we drove in?’
    â€˜Of course not. They’ve been busy overnight.’
    From one end of the street to the other, from tall ceremonial poles, blood-red banners were suspended. The poles were placed at intervals of about twenty metres so that the impression looking up the street was of a continuous riot of crimson colour on either side. In the centre of each banner was a white circle, and in the circle was the swastika. The effect was dramatic and dominating.
    Anthony recalled a verse of the
Horst Wessel Lied
, so often heard on the wireless and sung more than once the evening before –
    â€˜
Wann wehen die Hitler Fahnen
    Ãœber allen Strassen
    Dann bricht der Tag
    Der Deutschen Freiheit an
–’
    He gave a snort and spoke rather loudly.
    â€˜The Nazis seem to have taken over the triumphs of the Thirty Years’ War.’
    A group of four young men were passing at that moment. They wore khaki shirts and ties, peaked caps with strap beneath the chin, brown breeches and high brown boots. Their leader looked sharply at Anthony and gestured to his companions to halt. He had heard the remark. He approached Anthony and stood in front of him with a polite smile. His right hand shot up.
    â€˜Heil Hitler!’
    â€˜Heil Hitler!’ said Anthony with a deprecatory grin.
    â€˜You are English?’ said the young man, in English.
    â€˜We are. I can see,’ Anthony said in German, ‘that you speak excellent English but I need to practise German. It is our first visit to your country.’
    â€˜And do you like it?’
    â€˜It is beautiful.
    â€˜We are making all things new,’ said the young German. ‘We are rebuilding our country. We are doing it all together, the men, the women, the rich, the poor, the old, the young. Especially the young. We are all working, all helping each other, making a new, happy Germany.’
    â€˜How admirable.’
    â€˜This is being done under the guidance of the National Socialist Party. It is a party of all the people.’
    â€˜And the celebration today – it is an historical event, is it not?’
    â€˜Yes, it is the celebration of the liberation of the town from their enemy, from the French. The National Socialists have brought a new era but they also believe Germans should know and value their own history. That is very important. So every traditional event of this kind is supported and encouraged by our Party. You may like, perhaps, to contribute to our funds? It is to help old Party workers who can no longer help themselves. Maybe they are sick.’ He extended a tin and Anthony put a mark in it.
    â€˜
Vielen Dank
! Tell your friends in England what we are doing.’
    â€˜I