The Keep

But strange the way it looked so new.

Woerma

As they followed the trail into the center of the village, Woerma

A few hundred" feet or so beyond the village, the trail ended at the edge of the gorge. From there a timbered causeway supported by stone columns spa

Woerma

There was another eye within Woerma

"Well, Sergeant," he said to Oster as they halted at the edge of the causeway, "what do you think of your new home?"

"Not much, sir."

"Get used to it. You'll probably be spending the rest of the war here."

"Yes, sir."

Noting an uncharacteristic stiffness in Oster's replies, Woerma

"Not much war left anyway, Sergeant. Word came as we set out that Yugoslavia has surrendered."

"Sir, you should have told us! It would have lifted our spirits!"

"Do they need lifting so badly?"

"We'd all prefer to be in Greece at the moment, sir."

"Nothing but thick liquor, tough meat, and strange dancing there. You wouldn't like it."

"For the fighting, sir."

"Oh, that."

Woerma

"By the time you got there, Sergeant, the fighting would be over. I expect surrender within the week."

"Still, we all feel we could be doing more for the Führer there than in these mountains."

"You shouldn't forget that it is your Führer's will that we be stationed here." He noted with satisfaction that the "your" slipped right by Oster.

"But why, sir? What purpose do we serve?"

Woerma

Oster listened patiently despite the fact that he had heard the explanation a dozen times before and had himself given a version of the same story to the men in the detachment. Yet Woerma

"But the Russians have plenty of their own oil, sir, and we have a treaty with them."

"Of course! How stupid of me to forget! A treaty. No one breaks treaties anymore."

"You don't think Stalin would dare betray the Führer, do you?"

Woerma

Not if your Führer can betray him first. Oster wouldn't understand. Like most members of the postwar generation, he had come to equate the best interests of the German people with the will of Adolf Hitler. He had been inspired, inflamed by the man. Woerma

True, Hitler had united the country and had started it on the road to victory and self-respect again, something for which no loyal German could fault him. But Woerma

"Tell the men to get out and stretch," he said, ignoring Oster's last question. It had been rhetorical, anyway. "Inspect the causeway to see if it will support the vehicles while I go over and take a look inside."

As he walked the length of the causeway, Woerma

The heavy wooden gates in the keep's entrance arch were wide open, as were the shutters on most of the windows in the walls and in the tower. The keep seemed to be airing out. Woerma

He turned around slowly. The tower loomed over him; gray walls surrounded him on every side. He felt as if he were standing within the arms of a huge slumbering beast, one he dared not awaken.

Then he saw the crosses. The i

Woerma

He looked around again. Something else bothered him. Something was missing. Then it hit him—birds. There were no pigeons on the walls. Castles in Germany had flocks of pigeons about them, nesting in every nook and cra