a fine career ahead of you. Why spoil things, eh?'
W'hen he had departed. Theil explained as well as he could to his wife. Perhaps her father had been in some political trouble, and was being kept out of circulation until things settled down. It had been the first time which he could recall when she had turned on him .
She had shouted, 'Settle down! Is that what you would call it if the Tommies came here and started locking people in jails for wanting their country, their freedom!'
That leave had ended badly, and Theil had returned to his ship, which unbeknown to him was about to be called to action when the captain finally cracked under the strain and he himself by rights should have been promoted and given command. If not of the Prinz Luitpold then another of similar status. Instead, Hechler came.
Then Theil had received a message from a friend in Neumunster. He had not said much, but had sounded frightened, and it had been enough to make Theil hurry home after giving a vague explanation to his new captain. The ship was to be in the dockyard for a w'eek, and anyway he knew that Hechler wanted to come to terms with his command on his own, and at his own speed.
The news had been worse than he had imagined. Britta had gone to her parents' home alone. In spite of the strict travel restrictions, the impossibility of moving about in an occupied country without permission, she had managed to reach the port
of Esbjerg.
When Theil had confronted her he had been stunned by her appearance. She had been close to a breakdown, angry and weeping in turns. That night when she had finally allowed him to put her to bed she had shown him the great bruises on her arms. The military police had done that to her when they had dragged her from the house where she had been born.
When he had tried to reason with her, to calm her, she had pushed him away, her eyes blazing, and cried, 'Don't you see? They've killed my mum and dad! Don't you care what those butchers have done!'
The doctor, another old friend, had arrived and had given her something.
When she had finally dropped into a drugged and exhausted sleep he had joined Theil over a glass of brandy.
Theil had asked desperately, 'What should I do? There must be some mistake, surely? The authorities would never permit -'
The doctor had fastened his bag and had said crisply, 'Keep it to yourself, Viktor. These are difficult times. Perhaps it is best not to know all the truth.' He had fixed him with a grim stare. 'You are a sailor. Be glad. At sea you know your enemies.' He had gone, leaving Theil with his despair.
As time wore on Britta withdrew more and more into herself. The local people tried to be friendly but she avoided them for the most part. She had been a pretty girl when he had married her; now she seemed to let herself go. Theil always regretted that they had no children, preferably boys to grow up in his footsteps and serve Germany. Once it had distressed her that she could not give him a child. The last time it had been mentioned Theil had found himself almost wanting to strike her.
'A babyl What would you give it? A black uniform and a rubber truncheon to play with!'
Theil walked the last part of the journey from the railway station. It had always been a pleasant little town but he noticed that the queues of people outside the provision shops seemed longer, and the patient women looked tired and shabby.
And yet the town had escaped the war apart from a few stray bombs from homebound aircraft. The sky was empty of cloud as it was of the tell-tale vapour trails of marauding aircraft. It was almost like peacetime.
Theil was too deep in thought to glance at the bulletin boards outside the little church, and the people who were studying the latest casualty lists which like the queues were longer than before.
He thought of the case which he shifted from one hand to the other to return the salutes of some soldiers from a local flak battery. It was heavy and contained among