Free Young Lions by Andrew Mackay Page B

thank you. Or perhaps he should start carving out his own niche?
    “Questions, comments, flaws in my masterful plan to take over the world?” Schuster asked.
    “One question, sir: how, may I ask, have Generalmajor Wurth and Oberstleutnant von Schnakenberg reacted to your proposal?”
    “London has ordered them to agree. They have each been ordered to provide a company of troops as a guard of honour and all three of us will present a wreath on behalf of our respective services.”
    “Very good, sir.”
    “Whilst we’re on the subject, Zorn, what is the current state of play regarding our feud with the Luftwaffe?”
    “I would say that it’s rather more than a feud, sir. It’s a blood vendetta in true “Romeo and Juliet” style. Ever since the “Chicken and Egg” incident there have been outbreaks of violence every night. Dozens of men have been injured on both sides and there have even been several deaths.”
    “My God. I had no idea that things had got so bad. How has Wurth reacted?”
    “He has done absolutely nothing to stop it, sir. In fact, he has encouraged it.”
    “And the Army, Zorn?”
    “On the surface the Army has remained neutral but under the surface Army sympathies are firmly with the paras.”
    “No surprises there, Zorn. Von Schnakenberg and Wurth are as thick as thieves. They’re bound together by class and regimental loyalty.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “How have the public reacted?”
    “The public treat it all as a big joke,” Zorn said bitterly. “Instead of wandering down to the park on a Sunday afternoon to listen to a brass band playing they walk to the Square to watch our boys scrapping with the paras. The Armed Forces as a whole have become a laughing stock. “
    “All the more reason to put an end to this nonsense once and for all.” Schuster stood up and slammed a clenched fist into his hand. “We must show the people of Hereward that we are not a mob of undisciplined, uncultured barbarians.” He puffed out his chest like a robin. “We are members of the greatest civilization that the world has ever seen!”
     
    “Your ankle seems to have made a full discovery,” Ansett said as he walked alongside Alan.
    “Sir?” Alan was confused.
    “Your ankle,” Ansett pointed.
    “Oh yes, sir, my ankle,” Alan laughed uneasily. He stopped and leant on a lamppost as he stretched and flexed it. “As good as gold, sir. Although it can be a little stiff after I’ve done anything physical.” Such as killing Germans, you no good, low down, dirty, Hun loving traitor. Where were you when the shooting started and what were were you doing? Dusting down your welcoming mat and hanging out your swastika?
    Alan started walking again.
    Ansett remained where he was. “Alan.”
    “Yes, sir?” He stopped.
    “You can give up your charade.”
    “Sir?” Alarm bells started to ring in his head.
    “You can give up your charade about your ankle.”
    Alan started walking again, speeding up, “I’m afraid that I don’t understand, sir.” A bead of sweat ran down his cheek.
    Ansett caught up with him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I talked to Mr. Mason, or Captain Mason, your company commander. He said that both you and Sam fought bravely at Wake and Fairfax.”
    Alan clenched his fists as he desperately tried to fight off a rising tide of panic that threatened to engulf him. “He must’ve have mistaken me for someone else.” He shrugged off Ansett’s hand and kept walking.
    “Alan, he’s known you for two years in the Officer Training Corps, he taught you German last year and he teaches Sam this year. He hasn’t made any mistake.” Ansett said matter of factly.
    Alan stopped walking. Can I trust you? His Luger pistol was pressing uncomfortably against his crotch where he had hidden it down his trousers. Both Sam and he had agreed to be armed at all times. They had been deadly serious when they had sworn that they would rather die fighting than be captured alive. “Alright, we