The Rules in Rome by A.L. Sowards Read Free Book Online Page B

undesirables. Bastien had long ago concluded that the best thing he could do for Italian civilians was help the Allies break out of Anzio and kick the Nazis back into Germany, so even though he wanted to help the unfortunates on the train, he fully intended to walk past and do nothing.
    An elderly Italian woman, her gray hair showing under the black scarf she wore on her head, approached the train. She had a bag slung over her shoulder, and she reminded Bastien of his grandmother, the one his family had lived with when his father had gone away to war. Bastien had no memories of his father prior to his sixth birthday. His grandmother had been the one who had taught him to tie his shoes, spell his name, weed the garden, and do a hundred other things.
    The woman opened her bag and handed potatoes to the Italians trapped inside the locked train.
    “Stop! What are you doing?” One of the SS guards brandished his pistol and rushed over to the woman.
    As the guard ripped away her sack and raised his hand in preparation for a strike, Bastien interrupted. “What seems to be the problem?”
    The SS man was only a guard, not even an NCO, so Bastien, acting as Hauptmann Adalard Dietrich, clearly outranked him. The man lowered his hand and turned to face Bastien, anger written on his face.
    Bastien glared back. Acting like a conceited officer was one of the few perks of his current assignment. “Put your pistol away. This cargo is to do work for the Reich, no? Well-fed slaves are better workers.”
    “Italian scum. Plenty more where they came from. If a few die on the journey, it’s an insignificant loss.”
    Bastien glanced at the sack lying on the ground, still half full of potatoes. “You will go draw water for them, sturmmann .” Bastien stressed the last word, emphasizing the soldier’s low rank.
    The SS man’s face twisted with defiance.
    “Now, sturmmann. You may do it yourself or release a few of the prisoners and have them do it.”
    The guard marched off, though Bastien didn’t think he’d really fetch water for the prisoners. Bastien handed the bag back to the woman. “Quickly, Signora. I think it best if you leave before he returns.”
    The woman was just finishing her mission of mercy when the SS guard came back, his officer by his side. It was an obersturmführer, so Bastien was still the ranking man, but the officer would be more difficult to deal with. Bastien shooed the old woman away.
    The officer stopped a few feet from Bastien and tilted his chin up. “Hauptmann, it appears we have a misunderstanding.”
    “Oh? And what would that be, Obersturmführer?”
    He gestured toward the train with his hand. “I am escorting these criminals to Germany. I will allow no interference.”
    “And what are their crimes?”
    The obersturmführer seemed surprised by the question. “Too numerous to enumerate.”
    “Hmm. I’d wager most of them committed the simple crime of being born in the wrong place.” Bastien glanced behind him, making sure the Italian woman had disappeared into the crowd. “I have finished my so-called- interference. I assume this cargo will be transported through Switzerland?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then feed them and give them water. We wouldn’t want the Red Cross to notice anything amiss, would we?”
    The obersturmführer snorted. “The Swiss don’t care what we transport as long as we continue to line their bank vaults.”
    “For your sake, I hope you’re right, Obersturmführer. Good day.” Bastien turned to leave, hoping he’d successfully bluffed his way out of a volatile situation.
    He shouldn’t have done it. Of the six boxcars full of Italian civilians, the woman had fed less than one. For all he knew, the men inside were strangling each other for a bite of potato. Her gift could have easily made their journey more, not less deadly. And Bastien had his cover to maintain. At all costs, he had to maintain his cover, even if it meant one old woman was beaten by an SS