Chapter Nineteen

THE DAWN WAS grey and cold. Captain Marsh awoke to the sound of an engine firing. Stiffly, he detached himself from Sophia’s arms. She stirred and murmured. In the bleak light he saw the Albatros standing at the beginning of the lengthy runway. Its engine pitch increased. A mechanic throttled down, left it ticking over and descended from the cockpit. He spoke to a ground mechanic. The man gave the chocks a glance, then both men took the long walk to an airman standing outside a shed. All three entered the shed in search of some hot coffee, while the plane’s new engine warmed itself up.

It ticked over very steadily.

Sophia opened her eyes. Captain Marsh, on his feet and keeping himself out of sight of German personnel, smiled down at her. Warm blood suffused her.

‘We are going to Douai now?’ she whispered.

‘No, Sophia. I’m going over that wire fence. You’re going to go back to your father. I’ve got my eye on that plane. They’re letting the engine run for a while, and I think the pilot’s drinking hot coffee. I can fly an Albatros. If I can get the chocks away before anyone sees me – Sophia, I must take this chance to get back to my squadron –’

‘No, you can’t,’ she gasped, suddenly aware of what that meant.

‘I must. But I’ll write – somehow I’ll get a letter to you –’

‘No, you can’t,’ she gasped again. She was horrified, knowing that if he got away he would inform the British Army of the huge German troops’ movements. She had forgotten, in wanting him to escape, all he had seen. He would rob Germany of the chance of ending the war, he would alert the British and the French.

‘Sophia, my sweet, I have to go,’ he said, and bent to kiss her. Stricken by what he would do and by her own part in helping him to avoid capture, she twisted away. He winced, but he went. She saw him run to the wire fence and make his leap. His hands clamped around the top of a supporting post. The guard at the far end of the perimeter did not even seem awake, let alone alert. Sophia, mind spinning and heart sick, saw the revolver in the grass where Captain Marsh had dropped it in the night and forgotten it. She snatched it, released the safety catch and, on her knees, pointed the weapon, both hands fiercely gripping it. He was on the fence, hauling himself up, and her every emotion was frenzied. Only her country and the great final offensive counted now.

‘Come back!’ She screamed the words. Major Kirsten heard her. So did Elissa.

Captain Marsh was at the top. He turned his head for a last look at Sophia. He was poised for the jump. She fired. She fired mercilessly and compulsively. She had to. For Germany and for her father. Captain Marsh jerked, twisted and fell, inside the fence. His body thudded, and he lay very still. In the distance, Major Kirsten began to run, Elissa with him.

Sophia did not know how long it was before someone spoke to her.

‘Sophia?’ The voice was quiet but warm.

Lying on her face, shutting out the picture of what she had done, she lifted her head. Major Kirsten reached down and gently helped her to her feet. She swayed.

‘Is he dead?’ she asked, her face white, her eyes tragic.

‘Sophia –’

‘Have you looked at him? Is he dead?’

‘Yes, I’ve looked at him.’ Major Kirsten’s face was drawn, his eyes tired. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘An ambulance will be taking him away.’

Sophia closed her eyes. She shivered and her teeth chattered. She opened her eyes and looked. He was there, on the other side of the wire, not far from the runway. There was a blanket over his body, and a German soldier standing beside him. The Albatros was gone.

‘Oh, dear God,’ she said.

‘Was it unavoidable in the end?’ asked Major Kirsten.

‘Yes. But he was a brave man, Major.’

‘And an elusive one.’

‘He did not harm me,’ she whispered.

But he has left his mark on you, thought the major. The sadness on her face was heartbreaking.

‘We worried a little,’ he said.

‘You have followed us all this time?’ she said numbly.

‘Yes.’

‘He might have let you take him last night, for my sake.’

‘I believe you,’ said Major Kirsten gently. ‘Sophia, there’s some hot coffee on its way. Will you then permit me to take you to Headquarters, to your father?’

‘Yes.’

‘I’ve no questions, except one. He was going for that plane?’

‘Yes. And he would have informed the Allies about our troop movements. He would have had to, wouldn’t he?’

‘He would,’ said Major Kirsten, and sighed. It was all he wanted to know for the moment, why she had shot him. She had been desperately loyal to her country in the end. There would be no unpleasant questions now. He saw Elissa coming up. ‘Sophia, this is Lieutenant Landsberg, with the coffee. If you wish to talk to her, you’ll find her a person who will understand. I’ll wait by the car.’

He delivered Sophia into Elissa’s care. Elissa pressed a mug of coffee into her hands. Sophia sipped at it like a woman who had no idea what she was drinking or why.

‘Sophia, will you allow me, please?’ said Elissa, and put a German greatcoat around Sophia’s shoulders, for Sophia’s own coat seemed inadequate. She was shivering from head to foot. The greatcoat had been left by Captain Marsh. He and Sophia had shared it during the night.

‘Thank you,’ said Sophia. Elissa had never seen eyes so hugely tragic. ‘You were with Major Kirsten, following us.’

‘Yes,’ said Elissa. ‘We were so very worried, you see.’

‘You saw us,’ said Sophia, looking again at the blanket-covered body.

‘I can’t recall that,’ said Elissa.

‘Why did you do nothing?’

Elissa took the empty mug from the numb hands and said, ‘I saw only your eyes, I did not see you. I beg you not to mention it to Major Kirsten.’

Sophia touched the hand of the woman who had understood.

She felt frozen. He had loved her and he was dead now. His motor garage would stand empty. Only his friend, a man called Simon Tukes, would make the horseshoes.

‘I am so sad,’ she said, and Elissa knew why General von Feldermann’s daughter had turned about in her allegiance and gone freely with the British airman, and why it had been the most tragic moment of her life when she realized she had to shoot him.

A strong sleeping draught took Sophia out of her nightmare and into long rest. She lay in a room next to her father’s in the chateau.

Headquarters was a hive of activity. Ludendorff had been and gone, leaving everything as near to planned perfection as it could be, with General von Feldermann quite clear about what was expected of him and his Corps. The general had had little time to spare for other things this morning, but he had talked to Sophia, and Sophia had said all she wanted to in the space of a minute. The essence of it was that she was willing to return to her mother, but that she would like the privilege of deciding her own future. He understood.

‘One can learn, Sophia, even at my age,’ he said. ‘I’m aware now that your life is your own. It belongs to no one else, only to you.’

He also found time to talk to Major Kirsten. He did so in the major’s own room. They spoke, of course, about Sophia and the RFC airman. At the end, the general asked whether the man would recover.

‘Incredibly, he has a chance,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘I frankly thought him dead until the hospital telephoned to say that the ambulance orderly had detected the faintest pulse rate. He seems a man determined not to give in.’

‘The situation is impossible, Josef, you realize that?’

‘General, I think you’ll find Sophia realizes it herself.’

‘It would be better, then, for Sophia to still think him dead. For her sake, that would be infinitely better.’

Major Kirsten wondered if that really was for Sophia’s sake.

‘General—’

‘Yes, I know what you’re thinking. But consider it, Sophia imagining herself in love with a man so lacking in honour and decency that he was prepared to use her as a hostage.’

‘If I’m to believe Lieutenant Landsberg, Sophia isn’t imagining it. It’s unfortunate, but stranger things have happened. I’d suggest—’

‘I’d prefer no compromise,’ said the general. ‘I am, I assure you, putting Sophia’s welfare first. Please leave things as they are. I’m old enough and you’re wise enough for both of us to know she’ll get over him. Does Lieutenant Landsberg know the man is still alive?’

‘No. She’s in her quarters getting a few hours’ sleep.’

‘Say nothing to her, Josef. If the man fully recovers, he’s to be sent to a prisoner-of-war camp. That’s all. No other action is to be taken.’

‘None in respect of what might be termed his abduction of your daughter?’

‘None.’ General von Feldermann was crisp. ‘Good God, can you imagine the new ordeal for Sophia when she’s called to testify? And would she testify on coming face to face with him?’

‘I agree, she should be spared any inquiry,’ said Major Kirsten. ‘But –’

‘Yes?’

‘We’re not sparing her a worse ordeal, her sense of tragedy. Imagined or not, she was in love with him, but she stopped him escaping. She stopped him taking information to the Allies of our build-up. In doing that she thinks she killed him. It would mean a great deal to her peace of mind if she were given the news that he has a chance of recovery.’

‘No. I know Sophia. She would fly to his bedside, never mind that his country is at war with ours.’

‘I beg to disagree, General. I don’t think she’d do that. She’d wait.’

‘Wait?’

‘Until the war is over.’ Major Kirsten wondered why he was fighting for Sophia and the airman. ‘Your worries about her might be eased, for if she’s going to get over her feelings, that would give her time to.’

‘Josef, allow me to decide whether she’s to be told or not.’ The general grimaced in self-distaste. ‘Her life is her own, but she needs a little help to find the right direction.’

‘As you wish, General,’ said Major Kirsten, though for once he was not in complete agreement with the Corps commander. ‘But if he recovers, he may write to her.’

The general frowned.

‘I hope there’ll be no letters,’ he said. ‘Sophia should be allowed to forget the trauma of it all. Josef, if this man recovers, tell no one. And may I leave it to you to ensure there’ll be no letters?’

‘Ensure?’

‘Yes. Thank you. Incidentally, some staff adjustments are being made to cope with divisional requirements during the offensive. These mainly concern our WAC personnel. Ten of them are being transferred.’

‘I suppose they can be considered surplus to our requirements now that planning work is complete,’ said Major Kirsten. His scarred eye looked blank, his sound eye looked tired. He guessed what was coming.

‘Lieutenant Landsberg will be going to 51st Divisional Headquarters,’ said the general. ‘I think you can spare her now?’

‘Frankly, General, she is not an assistant I can easily spare.’

‘Quite understood, Josef, but there it is, and I’m grateful for all the cooperation I get from you.’

Major Kirsten’s damaged eye ached. He had been advised to wear a patch, but could not bring himself to go about with a one-eyed look in addition to a one-armed state. He said, ‘I think I’ll opt for early retirement.’

General von Feldermann regarded him with a wry smile.

‘You need some rest,’ he said, ‘and I need to convince myself I’ve made the right decision between what is fair and what is unavoidable. That’s all for the moment, Josef. Get a few hours’ sleep. Everything now concerns only the offensive.’

Four hours later, Elissa knocked on Major Kirsten’s office door and entered. He had taken a rest himself, but still looked drawn. She looked freshened up, but unhappy.

‘Major?’

He saw her unhappiness and said, ‘Yes, not a very pleasant day, Lieutenant.’

Elissa drew a breath.

‘I am being transferred,’ she said.

‘So I’ve been informed,’ he said. He got up from his desk and walked to the window. The parkland of the chateau offered a misty green vista.

‘I would prefer, Major, I would prefer –’ Elissa coloured.

‘What would you prefer?’ he asked, his back to her.

‘To stay.’

‘Yes, I’d prefer that too.’

‘Am I to have no option?’

‘Promotion sometimes has an option to it. The orders of a general concerning transfers and dispositions leave no options. That is the basis of efficiency and discipline in the German Army.’

‘I have a feeling, Major, that I’m being transferred because – because –’

‘Yes. You are. We are both an embarrassment to the general. We know, you see. But his position is understandable. You must recognize that.’ He turned and smiled at her. It distressed him then, to see tears in her eyes. ‘Are you as unhappy as that?’

‘I am a little stupid, Major. It’s of very small account, a transfer, when everything else means life and death to Germany.’

‘I am ready myself for a quick end to the war. I also feel ready for retirement.’

‘Retirement? But you’re still young, Major.’

He laughed.

‘My dear Lieutenant, I’m almost forty.’

‘When a woman is forty, she’s on the bridge of sighs,’ said Elissa. ‘When a man is forty, he’s on the river of life.’

‘Well, I think I’ve been swept out to sea. No, Elissa, I’m ready for the pastures. There’s been too much war, and I’m depressed about Sophia. You’re convinced she loved Captain Marsh?’

‘I’m convinced the impossible happened,’ said Elissa, hiding the full extent of her unhappiness.

Major Kirsten shook his head at the incomprehensibility of women.

‘Elissa, we spent the night looking in all the wrong places. They were up against the wire fence, or almost so. I failed Sophia.’

‘No,’ said Elissa.

‘Had we found them earlier, or had we at least managed to separate them in some way, we could have saved her from tragedy.’

Elissa’s unhappiness deepened. She had known exactly where they were at one stage and done nothing. She had looked into Sophia’s eyes and seen a woman desperately in love, and so she had said nothing and done nothing, and that at a moment when Major Kirsten, with the help of Sergeant Lugar, could have taken care of everything.

‘You didn’t fail her,’ she said.

‘I failed myself, then.’ Major Kirsten thought of Sophia’s deep sadness. ‘I should have been less of an actor in that copse and more of a soldier. Well, at least you and I shared two very eventful days.’ He smiled reminiscently. ‘I count you as a very close friend, if I may. Elissa, we’ve real worries. For all my faith in General Ludendorff, I doubt our capacity to sustain the offensive long enough. There simply aren’t enough reserves, and when the Americans arrive in force against us, we shall be at our weakest and most vulnerable. We shall hope, of course, but one way or another the war will be over this year. I shan’t be too unhappy to commune with my vegetables.’

‘But you love the army, and you’ve given so much of yourself,’ said Elissa.

‘Not as much as the millions who’ve died,’ he said. ‘I’ve no real complaints, so compose yourself.’

‘I’m not in the mood to be rapturous,’ said Elissa. Still sensitive in his presence, she coloured again under his concerned eyes. She was not to know he was wishing himself younger, with two arms. She drew another breath. ‘I am to leave in the morning. I have a little work to finish this afternoon. You will then allow me to say goodbye to you?’

‘Allow you? Good God, am I such a martinet?’

‘Oh, no. No. Perhaps I should say goodbye now. Major, it has been so good, working here with you.’ New tears came then and her weakness shocked her, for the tears spilled. Silently, Major Kirsten gave her his handkerchief. She dabbed her eyes. ‘I’m so sorry – please forgive me for embarrassing you.’

‘Permit me,’ he said. He took her hand and raised it to his lips. ‘That is to salute you and to convey the very deep regard I have for you. For you as much as myself and Germany, I wish victory and peace. Soldiers lose their lives in war, but it is women who endure the greater suffering. The peace must belong mainly to you, Elissa and all women.’

Elissa did not know how she was going to bear victory or peace with her emotions in the state they were.

‘Major, please don’t think me importunate, but on your estate, after the war – will you need someone? A secretary – someone to help you look after things? It would interest me very much, the business of an estate. Oh, I don’t mean to imply you could not run it very well yourself, but if –’ She stopped. It was too difficult to make known to him exactly why she was so unhappy.

Major Kirsten’s self-discipline cracked for a moment, and he looked painfully unsure of himself. Then he said lightly, ‘You must allow me to write you about such an excellent idea. My place isn’t huge – it can’t compare with the great estates of Prussia, but the prospect of renewing our relationship in peacetime is very tempting. I’ll let you know eventually how things stand and what kind of a post can be offered you.’

Elissa did not really know whether that was a promise or not, whether it gave her hope or not.

‘Thank you, Major,’ she said.

‘My dear Elissa –’ He checked himself. In not finding Sophia in time, he had failed her and also her father. He felt he had little to offer a woman to compensate for his many limitations. ‘Until the war is over, then,’ he said.

‘Yes, Major,’ said Elissa, and felt her heart was dying.

Ludendorff’s offensive began with a massive attack south of Valenciennes, the purpose of which was to roll back the British on both sides of St Quentin. The British, caught off guard, reeled under the hammer blow. Outnumbered, outgunned, their lines broke, and for the first time in years the war on the Western Front became fluid in terms of ground gained, ground lost and the rapid movements of armies. Ludendorff won a well-planned and well-executed breakthrough. The Germans swept on, crossing the Somme to return to the territory they had won during their great advance in 1914. They turned on the French. This was the crucial stage of their offensive. With the British still staggering from the unexpected weight and fire of the assault, Ludendorff sought to smash the French and drive his huge wedge between them and the British. The French engaged, the British recovered, the Americans were in, and the battle produced a stalemate that was to prove fatal for Germany, although Ludendorff was not finished yet.