1503954692 by Steve Robinson Page A

benchmark for Ava’s affection. To date, Johann was ahead by five letters, which he took to be a good sign.
    SS- Junkerschule Bad Tölz was Germany’s equivalent of Britain’s Sandhurst Royal Military Academy and the United States Military Academy at West Point, and it had impressed Johann from the moment he had entered the complex between the two conical towers that framed its arched main gate. It was there that they had quickly refined their leadership skills, but with the advent of war that September, their time at the training school lasted only seven months.
    Johann stopped trying to read his newspaper and neatly folded it and placed it beside his peaked cap on the empty seat beside him. He had thought it might help to distract him during the journey, but every time he picked it up he found himself unable to concentrate. He gazed out of the carriage window instead and noticed that dusk had begun its inevitable descent, obscuring the buildings on the outskirts of Munich into featureless shapes, darkening the glass to a pale mirror in which he saw the reflection of a young man who seemed to have grown up so fast in recent years that he barely recognised himself. Perhaps it was his officer’s uniform, or the responsibility that came with it.
    Soon to join the ranks of the elite Leibstandarte SS Adolf Hitler , which was originally established as Hitler’s personal bodyguard, he wore the field-grey duty uniform of an SS- Untersturmführer , having welcomed the honour of serving with the regiment as a Junior Storm Leader attached to the Reconnaissance Battalion—not least because he knew there were appointments for SS officers that he had no taste for, such as within the ranks of the Security Police—the Sicherheitsdienst , commonly referred to as the SD.
    He considered that the only thing about him that remained unchanged was the hairstyle he had first been introduced to in the Hitlerjugend . His hair was just as blonde now as then, and it was tapered down to the skin an inch above his ears and neckline, while the longer crown was slicked back with a pomade hair dressing and combed with a high side parting. He smoothed it back with the palm of his hand and looked down at his newspaper again, catching the headline that informed of Adolf Hitler’s meeting with Benito Mussolini at the Brenner Pass, high in the Alps, where they had talked of an alliance between their nations against Britain and France. He wondered what his father would make of this war, and how different it might be from the last, in which his father had fought. As hard to please as Johann’s father was, it was Johann’s wish to make him proud.
    He felt his upper body roll forward as the train slowed down. He checked his watch and noted that it was almost seven thirty. Not long to go now. He had a few days to himself before he had to join his unit and he hoped to spend as much of that time as possible with Ava. They had arranged to meet at eight thirty at the Osteria Bavaria on the corner of Schellingstrasse — a restaurant that Volker, in his usual bullish manner, had insisted they dine at because it was reportedly frequented by Adolf Hitler. In Volker’s last letter to Johann, he had informed him that his young cousin, Trudi Scheffler, was visiting Munich with her aunt that weekend, and so he had invited her along to make up a fourth for dinner.
    Johann had seen through his friend’s plan immediately. It was common knowledge to him that Volker’s cousin would marry him if he would have her, but since Volker had made it clear to Johann that he intended to make a play for Ava, Johann could think of no reason why his friend would invite the reputedly beautiful Fräulein Scheffler along for any reason other to distract Johann’s attention from the girl whose affections they were both vying for. As the train followed a bend in the railway track, Johann glimpsed the covered train terminal ahead. When the train pulled alongside the concourse, he neatly