Free The Last Wolf by Margaret Mayhew Page A

about Adolf Hitler while swallowing a lot of Laphroaig whisky.
    â€˜All that nonsense he’s been telling us about having to protect the Sudeten Germans in Czechoslovakia is just a red herring, you know. They’re not being ill-treated by the Czechs at all. He just wants to get his hands on the Skoda munitions works so he can attack Russia. And Chamberlain’s a fool if he believes a single word the fellow says. If we don’t stand up to Herr Hitler now, we’ll find ourselves facing another war with Germany. They’re re-arming as fast as they can – riding roughshod over the Treaty rules – and as soon as they’re ready, they’ll make their move. Mark my words.’
    Grandfather said mildly, ‘A lot of people might not agree with you, Robert. And they don’t want to do anything to upset or provoke Hitler.’
    â€˜I know. I read it in the newspapers and I listen to the talk that goes on. Spineless appeasers! Don’t tell me you’re on their side, Archie?’
    â€˜No, I’m not, as it happens. And I think you may well be proved right about Hitler. But I don’t think we should rush our fences. Negotiations should be given a chance. For one thing, we need time to build up our own forces.’
    The colonel grunted. ‘There’s some truth in that. A chap who’s in the know told me that the German Air Force has already got many more planes than the RAF – good ones, too. Heaven help us if that’s the case. Well, at least we’ve got the Royal Navy to count on. Britannia still rules the waves, thank God.’ He took another swig of whisky and looked across the table at Hamish. ‘It’ll be your war, this time, young man. You’re going to have to do the fighting. What do you think about that as a prospect?’
    â€˜I can’t wait, sir.’
    â€˜That’s the spirit, my lad. That’s the spirit.’
    They went back to London in early September. There were rumours everywhere of the war that might have to be fought if Germany were to invade Czechoslovakia and, worse than rumours, there were clear signs. Trenches were being dug in the parks, cellars and basements turned into air-raid shelters, gas masks issued. Mr Chamberlain was said to be going to meet Hitler in Germany to try to come to some agreement. France and Italy would go, too, but apparently the Czechs were not invited.
    At school Stroma received another letter from Reinhard. He didn’t refer to a war at all, or to any of the rumours, or say anything about Czechoslovakia. His officers’ training would soon be completed, he wrote, and after a short leave in Hamburg he would be joining a submarine boat flotilla, though he didn’t mention where. He enclosed a photograph of himself – a very formal one in his German naval officer’s uniform. She didn’t recognize the man that he had become: he was nothing like the boy she remembered on Islay. He looked so smart and so grown-up. Almost frighteningly so. On the back of the photo he had written:
For little Stroma, from Reinhard
. There were no spelling mistakes in his letter. Not even one.
    One of the other girls was peering nosily over her shoulder.
    â€˜I say, who’s that dishy-looking chap?’
    She stuffed the photo away in the envelope. ‘Nobody.’
    At the end of the officers’ training course at the Naval Academy, an Admiral of the German Navy came to make a speech. The graduates assembled in the square to listen to him. He was a big man and his voice boomed out across the square like a cannon firing.
    â€˜The time has come for you to show what you have learned – to prove yourselves for the sake of your country. Our Navy has ancient and honourable traditions. Germany will expect each and every one of you to do your duty.’
    His own father’s sentiments exactly, Reinhard thought drily. And, as it happened, also those of the famous Admiral Nelson,